Family Matters
by Wangan
Summary: It starts with a monster from beyond. One destined to be forgotten, alone and forgotten on a distant planet. Never to be remembered. Yet… that changed with the appearance of Quirks and the final descendant with the monster's genetic trait. It starts with the final carrier after birth to her son. It starts with a four year old needing comfort and poor timing.
1. Act 0-1

_It has taken me a long time to get up the courage to write this. For many reasons, I've delayed and postponed the publishing of this book. Mostly because of __its__ subject matter: Inko Midoriya. I can easily imagine the reactions I've already gotten from that name alone._

_Disgust. Admiration. Curses. Maybe even a bit of hero worship. Its a name that stirs up many feelings and even more names. Monster. Destroyer. Invader. Hero. Idealist. Wild Card. The number of pedestals that she's been put on or forced into as some see it, is as numerous as they are vague. _

_I think the main problem people have with her is that she is not a clean subject. Not Black-and-White and can't be slipped into a slot that perfectly wraps her entire being up in a little bow. Coming off the heels of massive characters like All Might and All For One, it was undoubtedly hard for her to be put into one camp or the other. _

_Was she a villain? No, she saved lives. Was she a Hero? No, she's taken lives as well. _

_To me though, she was my mother._

_So many people have gotten caught up in the results of her actions that they've forgotten that most of the things blamed on her were far out of her control. From the activation of our family genes to the incidents during my time a UA to our fights against the Villain Alliance to the rise of the JJE to __**HIM**__ breaking out of prison, were not her fault. I know no matter what fame or infamy that these events gave her and I, my mother would've rather had a normal happy life. Would've rather had me have a normal happy life._

_Instead, we both had to become strong to face what was ahead._

_-Izuku Midoriya, My Mother The Warrior._

Chapter 1

Seeing the scorched blown out front of the corner store, Yagi wondered if there was ever going to be a time in which he _wouldn't_ be shocked by the random acts of violence he had, would, and knew he'd continue to come across.

He sighed behind the smile he forced to make as genuine as possible for the cameras around which had been, before he'd arrived, trying to get a better look at the crime scene but were now squarely focused on him. Between the click-flash of photos being taken and the rush of questions from the news anchors trying to crowd around him, he was tempted to simply make a statement on how the situation was handled and exit as quickly as politeness would allow.

Hell, this wasn't his scene. Heroic involvement had ended when the commission of the crime had and even more so now that the police were investigating but he wanted to offer a helping hand, especially considering who's Hero Firm was involved. But he was here now and leaving as soon as he got here would cause an unnecessary media stir.

Giving the crowd a small wave of acknowledgment, he strode through the police cordon, and only barely managed to not completely halt when he got inside.

What he saw was enough to turn his stomach which was good, it meant that he wasn't completely jaded but that was the only positive thing he could pull from the horrible sight before him.

The store was totally wrecked. Shelves of snacks and other things knocked over and scattered. Chunks of the cashier's counter were smashed into pieces and in the very rear of the store, the refrigeration units were cracked with glass, warped by heat, scattered everywhere on the cracked floor glittering like little round diamonds among the debris.

It would almost be bearable to look at if it wasn't for the bodies. Two boys, teens really, still dressed in their school uniforms were sprawled out over the shelves. With their closed eyes, Yagi could easily imagine that they were just asleep or out cold if it wasn't for them being cut in half.

Cleanly sliced at the waist with a massive pool of blood under them.

With the shelves down, he got a clear view of the next victim who was... Male? Female? A body was all but planted into the far wall, clothes burned away and surrounded by scorch marks.

The last body was without a doubt the worst. The man was identifiable as a hero, his black and white checkerboard suit hanging loosely around his curled shriveled husk of a body. Yagi was grateful that it was a full body suit that covered even the face because he didn't want another horrible sight etched into his memory to follow him to sleep.

He hadn't known the young man well, he was a Member of the Rakka firm, One of Endeavor's people CrossCheck. He didn't know the young man's actual name.

Endeavor, Japan's Number 2 ranked hero, stood over the body with his usual scowl even fiercer that usual, and raised his head to look at him as he entered. Yagi wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but it seemed that the flames that he wore dimmed slightly. The death of any hero was one the affected them all, even more so when you're responsible for them and it was clear by his body language that he was just reining himself in. He wanted to lash out but had no target...at least until he showed up.

"What're you doing here?" He began as he stepped around the body, putting himself between Yagi and the rest of the store. "This is my scene and if you think-"

Yagi raised a hand to hold back the argument and was rather surprised that the Number 2 Hero actually stopped. "I'm just here to help. I was in the area when I heard the sirens." He couldn't help the second glance at CrossCheck and winced. "I'm sorry."

Endeavor scoffed and looked away, his fists clenching even tighter and making the material of his gloves creak. "The idiot was supposed to be off duty. Don't even know why he was here, damn it. He knew my rules and now..."

Yagi knew. While Endeavor called them 'his' rules, they were pretty universal for hero firms all across Japan. Interns were NEVER to patrol alone.

"What happened?"

The other man looked back at him with a glare, his mouth working as if chewing on something unpleasant. He sighed and then pointed at a old man with white hair that Yagi had passed right by without noticing. The man was being questioned by the officers over at nearby ambulance, a blanket around his shoulders. "A robbery gone wrong or just gone violent. The cashier, Mitsuki, over there was ringing up a customer when a young man and a young woman in hoodies and facemasks came in and told everybody to get down on the floor." He waved in the direction of the two teens that had been sliced in half. "Those two were unlucky. According to our witness the our murderer at large simply cut them down as soon as they'd entered. No warning or anything."

Yagi felt his blood run cold. There weren't many who could just kill like that. His surprise must've shown on his face because Endeavor nodded. "Yep. And if it wasn't for th-"

"Uh, Sirs?" They both turned to look at a female officer, who crisply saluted them then waved over to the backroom of the store. "We've managed to pull footage from the cameras."

Yagi turned back to Endeavor. "You mind if I stay?"

The man's response was another snort as he spun on his heel and made his way to the indicated place.

Yagi motioned for the officer to lead and with a grateful nod, she paused as they reached the battered looking door. The smell of burnt everything from the body on the wall, while not gone, was still strong enough to unsettle the stomach. "Do we know who did this?" He asked, hoping to distract her.

She jumped at his question but shook her head. "Not yet, All Might sir." She twitched her head in the direction of the burned body just enough to indicate it but keep it out of sight. "We know that is one the girl. We'll have to use dental records to ID her. We have an APB out for the other but..."

She didn't say more. She didn't have to.

The male was in the wind...for now.

When they got to the backroom, she stepped aside for him to get a view of the computer that sat at a desk tucked into the corner of the room among the shelves of products. Two other police officers with Endeavor looming over the one who was working at the keyboard, gave him enough space to see clearly. "We're going to start, at least two minutes before the robbery."

"Play it." Endeavor snapped and with the click of a mouse, the video began. The camera angle was perfect and gave them all a full view of the entrance, Cash register, and the store as a whole. The second camera was of the backroom they stood in now, with a view of the door the led into the store proper.

"_-ou boys better be __planning__' on buying what yer readin'." _

The slightly balding owner, Mitsuki, was pointing squarely at the two teenagers who, Yagi hated to remember, were dead on the floor in the next room. The two boys were standing by the magazine racks flipping through ones they had in their hands. The one closer to the door, shrugged, mumbled something and waved off the old man.

It looked like the man was getting ready to kick them out when two people entered the store. A woman and a boy who couldn't be even ten years old. From their similar green hair and facial features, they were certainly mother and son. The woman held her son close, guiding him to the fridge section in the back, past the teens.

"_Whi-...on...nt?"_

"_-at one..."_

The microphone wasn't clear but snatches of what she was saying painted enough of a picture, a picture that that was even more solid after the boy pointed at a frozen ice cream treat of some sort and she picked it up. The pair made their way over to the counter and it was at that time the two boys lost interest in whatever they'd been reading and, putting the magazines up in the wrong spots, made for the exit

By all rights, in Yagi's opinion, that's where it should've ended. The obvious school friends should've left, the mother should've been able to buy the treat for her son, which, now that the pair were closer to the camera than anyone he could see that the treat in question was his All Might Special. It made him think back for a moment about the commercial he'd done for it more than a year ago now. 'Red, white, and blue-berry' if he was remembering the line right.

Then his attention was grabbed by a fast shadow of movement by the entrance, in the far left corner of the video. No one saw it happen. The boys were fooling around like teens do on their way to the door, with roughhousing shoves and laughs and the man and woman were focused on the purchase as the little boy was just beginning to pull the wrapper off.

The doors were thrown open with such force that the glass cracked and a new pair filled the space. The noise was enough to make everyone jump. With bulky gray hoodies and fully matching outfits of loose jeans, Yagi had a hard time at first figuring out who was who until the smaller of the two raised her hand and shouted. _"ALL YOU DOWN ON THE FLOOR! NOW!"_

There was the expected moment of disbelief which was followed after by GREAT and unexpected violence. Even with preparation, even with seeing the bodies first hand, Yagi barely held back the jump of surprise as the male stepped in around her and sliced his hand right at the school kids even as the boys were in the process of raising their own. His fingers wreathed in energy of some sort, lightning from the look of it and it smacked both boys clean off their feet and sent them crashing into a shelf right behind them. When their bodies settled, they did in two pieces. Neither moved after that and Yagi hoped that the shock had knocked them out.

The streak of power continued like a wave, knocking over row after row of shelves and smashing the refrigeration units in the back of the store. There was no sound from the video, the microphone was unable to record all the noise for the moment.

However what he saw next amazed him. The mother scooped up her child in one arm, who was screaming when the sound came back, and with her other, grabbed for the store owner. He had been nearer to the end of the counter and was dragged along as she ran for the backroom.

It caught the criminals off guard as neither of them reacted until she was just getting to the door.

"_Where you going?!"_ The male shouted, coming around the destruction her created with his hand cocked back like he was about the throw a pitch. Energy...no, it was electricity, wrapped around his hand and he flung it just as the woman had let go of the owner and grabbed for the door. She'd been so close, Yagi was certain that had the villain acted just a second of two later she would've made it. Hell, if she had been alone, he was certain she'd have made it.

But between her just putting her son down at the same time, she was reaching slowed her just enough. Plus, the little boy, like any child in this situation, clung to his mother and so was holding her hand as the ball hit her square in the back.

Again the sound cut though in time with the flash as she and her son were smacked down as if they'd been shoved, the concussion that followed sent the two rolling across the floor in different directions. This put the shop owner into action and he hurriedly threw the door shut and locked it. Not a moment too late, as another cracking blast crashed into it.

The man seemed to struggle, looking from the mother to the son as if not sure who to help first.

"Pause it." Endeavor instructed. The video paused with the old man in mid-scramble, the male villain in mid throw and his partner barely having moved up to now except to get, what he guessed was, a better view.

"The woman and her son?" He asked. From the fact that their bodies weren't still on the floor, it gave Yagi a little hope.

The one of the officer's nodded though his face was grim. "I was here when they were taken to the hospital. The mother in particular was in critical condition, last I heard."

The video continued and Yagi noticed right away that there wasn't a decibel of sound coming from the speakers. He found out later that the microphone had been blow out, the blast had been so close to it. The man charged for the door and the hero had to bite his tongue to keep from cursing. However, Endeavor growled his characteristic grumble. "Can't be 18, if a day." The criminal, in his rush for his victims, had not only closed in to the camera that gave them a better view but let his hoodie slip off his head. He was young enough to be a classmate of the students he killed but that's where any consideration of youth flew out the window. It was silent but Yagi could easily read the bellows and shouts from the way he blasted at the door, an expression of seething rage. When it was becoming clear that his Quirk alone wasn't getting through, he began to beat on it with his fists.

"Officer." Yagi said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the nearest police officer, a woman with a tight bun of hair pinned down. "Make sure to update the APB with this face before we leave."

If the other hero had a problem with him taking even this little bit of initiative, he didn't show it.

It was a movement near the counter that reminded the hero about his accomplice. The woman, possibly girl if the age of the male was any indication. She was leaning over the counter reaching for the cigarettes but froze, clearly seeing something that the camera and the man couldn't.

If there had been a warning, Yagi didn't know. But a form crashed through the glass window closest to the counter, and in one smooth movement landed and body checked the girl. Half-bent over a counter, she had no chance to defend herself and was knocked clean off her feet and into a shelf. CrossCheck, his hero costume perfectly fitting him, was aware enough to not look at the criminal he'd knocked over and spun to face the other one. His right hand snapped up, palm up and forward. A huge circle of energy sprang up in the air before him. A black disc-shaped shield. Not a moment too soon. The other villain's reactions were just as sharp. There was no hesitation or pause. He just swung around, arm leading and fired.

The power hit the shield, which held the ball against it for a brief moment, then the color flashed to white and the villain's own attack fired back at him. Much faster than when it had come at the hero. So much so that, the man had to throw himself to the floor in order to dodge. The ball of electricity splashed against the door in an shower of sparks, buckling it slightly.

Yagi glanced over to Endeavor, the question obvious. The Number 2 Hero's ever present frown had etched deeper lines in his face at the appearance of one of those under him. "His Quirk is called Reflect. Any attack taken on his shield gets bounced back with twice as much force."

Nothing else was said nor did Yagi want anything to be said. The next minute of video led to the death of a hero in training. Even the police officers who were watching the video with them shared grim expressions.

CrossCheck was on the man before the sparks had touched to floor. His lunge carried him clear across the space between them. He not once lowered or dispersed the shield, instead using it at a battering ram to pin the criminal to the floor.

The blow was powerful and savage. Meant to take down right away before the criminal had a chance to adapt.

It had been working. Two more swings of the shield, the force of which was doubled as it changed color. The young man's face was bloody and there was a hazy unfocused look to it that anyone who'd ever really had their bell rung could recognize.

Then CrossCheck stiffened in the middle of cocking his arm back, half turned, and looked down. He shifted his leg as if he'd snagged his foot in the debris around him. It was only when the hero in training actually stumbled that Yagi noticed that a hand was wrapped around his ankle.

The girl. He saw her now. She'd crawled from where she'd been thrown and had grabbed him while he'd been focused. As CrossCheck began twitching and then shaking, it was apparent to everyone that this was the moment when everything went wrong. His arms went limp, his shield present but with his sudden forced paralysis, useless.

The state of that young man's body must have been from whatever her quirk was. And no doubt it was painful, to what degree Yagi didn't know. The only pain he was sure of was the sting in his chest as he watched. And he knew it had to be worse for his fellow crime fighter.

In the time that CrossCheck was held in place her partner, face dripping blood and beginnings of bruises starting to color his skin, began to stand.

He raised a hand and the biggest electric blast yet flew right at the Hero. Somehow instead of striking him, most likely because of the beating that he'd been on the receiving of Yagi supposed, the aim was off and it caught the very edge of the shield.

The shield that was hanging low.

The energy rolled along the edge of the shield in the same way a glass filled right to the rim would hold that little bit more before spilling.

The shield turned black just as the power curved down its edge.

Right into the other villain's face.

The video cut then. The explosion that followed or the concussion that came with it too much for the kind of security camera that would be used by a convenience store.

"I'll get the bastard." Endeavor's voice was the first roll of thunder before the hurricane makes land. All threat and menace. With a quick step, he marched for the exit but the stopped as if he forgot something. He turned a fierce gaze at Yagi and pointed. "He's mine. If you find him, back off."

He then left without another word. Yagi couldn't blame the man for wanting revenge. A charge of his was killed but that wasn't what worried the hero.

He took one last look at he blank screen, chewing at his bottom lip in thought. No, it was the condition of the villain still at large.

If he was somehow uninjured by that explosion, which he doubted then he was working himself up for nothing. Any criminal with any sense would find a place to lie low. Yet that face, the man's expression twisted into such hatred, quickly shoved aside his hopes for a rational mind. Which made the more possible situation, that they were currently dealing with a desperate **INJURED** unbalanced murderer who was now doing God knows what.

It was that very idea that put an extra bit of speed into his step as he left the building to start patrolling the streets.

XXX

Darkness and cold. Drifting and weightlessness. No air to breathe or anything to hold.

That was all that Inko felt at first. A numb empty nothing that flowed across her being and clawed away at her rising consciousness. The more she became aware, the more information followed. Bit by bit, her senses came back. She felt gravity finally settle around her, her back pressed into the soft surface of a bed, a blanket over her. The chill on her exposed skin told of air conditioning and let her know that her arms were on top of the blanket, not under it like she normally slept. A tightness on the back of her skull and a pressure on her face was another warning that something was off.

A steady thrum from deep in her chest was matched by a noise that felt distant yet closer than she thought as if hearing through a long tunnel. Then someone somewhere turned up the volume and she was able to clearly make out what it was.

**-EP.**

_HISS._

**BEEP.**

_HISS._

**BEEP.**

_HISS._

**BEEP.**

She moved to turn off what she thought at first was an alarm or rather...she tried. Barely had she worked her unbelievably tired muscles to move her body in the direction of the sound when pain lanced through her. White, hot, and pure, the darkness before her exploded into fireworks.

The pain made her open her eyes and, after laying still until the fire searing all the way to her bones cooled, it took her bewildered mind a long while to figure out that the white void before her eyes was a tiled ceiling.

The realization came upon her suddenly and violently, not as a comforting revelation but a hollow horrific flash that yanked her sluggish mind up by the neck and throttled her. With it, all details that had been distant snapped vividly into place. The beeping was a heart monitor.

The hissing? A breathing machine.

The pressure on her face and head? The strap and warm plastic of a breathing mask.

The bed? A hospital one.

Opening her mouth, which felt dry and filled with too much of her tongue, she coughed. Doing so made her whole body throb and the sound that came out was raspy and scratchy.

"Oh my god." The unexpected voice just next to her would've made her jump if she'd had the energy. Instead, she twitched as a familiar face came from her left to peer over her. Mitsuki Bakugo's expression was a mix of things, shock mainly as her hand covered her mouth. It was around that moment that Inko realized the gasp she'd heard wasn't her own.

"I'll get the nurse." Another voice, Masaru's she realized, quickly said, followed by the sound of quick footsteps around her and of a door opening.

"Stay with us, Inko." Mitsuki pleaded, her red eyes looking at her with more worry than Inko had ever seen from the woman in the years she'd known her. She felt the woman's hand close around her own as if she needed to hold her in place to keep her here.

The open concern was a relief...

...at first.

Then worry followed and it made her stomach twist into knots as it slowly hit her that she hadn't really seen herself yet. She could barely turn her eyelids in any direction without pain coming in like a slap across the face and the numbness was fading so SO slowly. With a cold vice closing around her heart, she began to think of what she would do if the numbness went away but left something...lacking behind it. What could she do if something was missing?

What had happened to her? She wasn't given time to search her memory before the footsteps came back followed by more than one set. For the next few minutes there was nothing but frantic activity around her. Too many voices, too many questions, too much to try to process. She squeezed her eyes shut and tired to block out the sound as her head began to throb. She just needed a moment to think about what happened. How did she get here? What time was it?

"Mrs. Midoriya?" This was a new voice. Male and tentative. The speaker leaned into view and judging from the lab coat, he was the doctor. A man with an obvious quirk, his ears were the shape of a stethoscope and his salt and pepper hair was combed over in just the right way to barely hint at a bald spot.

He also had what Inko had to assume was supposed to be a comforting smile on his lips. It wasn't comforting at all and didn't help the worry building in her stomach. "Ah, Mrs. Midoriya. Good. Good. I apologize for the disturbance but we are glad to see you're awake." He pulled a clipboard from under his arm. "I understand you probably have questions but first, can you speak?"

She tired to say 'Yes' but instead of words, a dry croak left her throat.

Luckily, that was all it took to communicate to the doctor that she couldn't. "Okay, here's what I'd like for you to do, Ma'am. I will ask you some simple Yes or No questions. Just blink once for Yes, Twice for No. Can you do that for me?"

She blinked.

"Good." The Doctor said, writing something down on his clipboard. "My name is Dr. Shirokuro and you are in Musutafu General Hospital. Do you understand?"

Blink.

Another mark. "Can you move?"

Two blinks.

"Is it because of the pain?"

Blink.

"Do you know what happened to you?"

Inko was about to blink twice, she hadn't had time to mull over the blank spot in her memory, when the blank filled in. The store, the attack, the pain, IZUKU!

She sat straight up and the room began to tilt in response. Her vision flashed white as the pain savagely reminded her of its existence Her skin burned as every muscle and fiber and joint screamed protests but she grit her teeth and bore it.

Dr. Shirokuro jumped slightly, mouth dropping open. "Uh, Miss- Ma'am! You must lay back down! Your back-"

His frantic face paled as she snatched off the oxygen mask and spoke, her voice barely recognizable as her own. Her tongue felt like lead, thick and heavy but she forced her words out."Wuh...Where i-is muh...my son?"

"Ma'am, you need to-ulp!" His words were ended with a yelp and splutter as Inko reached out and snatched the man by the collar and with strength that surprised both of them, she dragged him towards her until he was bent at the hips over the rail on the hospital bed and looked him dead in the eyes. He needed to understand that her bed could be about to fall of the edge of a cliff right now and it wouldn't matter if she fell or not until she got her answer "Whe-re is meh...my son?"

There must have been something in her eyes because Shirokuro, rallied his mouth. "Your son is-"

Inko, so focused on listening, she didn't hear the short commotion in the hall but the doctor did and glanced to it. A flash emotion washed over the woman. She was so close, not even a full sentence away but this...this idiot couldn't even complete the sentence without getting distracted. Even with her so close that she was right in his face? Demanding it?!

The bundle of feelings in her mind uncoiled into...something she didn't recognize and even as frantic as she was she didn't like. Yet, they came upon her in that moment like a tidal wave and washed away at her hesitation. Hands trembling against the collar, she settled into the foreign yet somehow familiar thoughts as if she'd suddenly gained a new perspective on some idea she'd known all her life. This man wasn't taking her seriously. When someone demanded an answer, did anyone with the slightest bit of respect for the one asking answer the question halfway? No. She just needed to-

"Mommy!" The door slammed open and in that moment, not only did those thoughts flee but she let go of the man's collar.

Izuku, small hospital gown fluttering, sprinted in so quickly, she barely had time to react as he clambered up onto the bed and threw his little arms around her. The blooming pain in her back from the jostling had nothing to do with the tears building in her eyes as she hugged her son back. Her little boy was alright! She couldn't help but see the red zigzag-ing lines on his left hand going halfway up his bare arm but he was up and talking and ALIVE.

Her little boy was alright. Inko couldn't stop the tears spilling down her face not that she would've tried. Her eyes burned, her body ached in ways that warned her to stop what she was doing but she ignored the way her muscles twinged and pulled her son closer into a hug.

He pulled back from her with tears running down his round face and soaking into his own hospital gown. Her little boy was alright. That was good...great...yes. Now that the fear was gone, things were becoming just a little fuzzy. The bed began slowly turning under her. She tried to tell whoever was pushing the bed to stop but her mouth suddenly wasn't working at all.

"T-they told me you weren't waking up and-and-and..." Inko wasn't quite able to read his expression as he looked up at her but that didn't matter. "M-Mom-my?" Her little boy was alright. He was walking and talking so that meant...

"Mrs. Midoriya?"

Her...her...little...

"Mommy?!"

...boy...was...

"Nurse! Get him ou… f here-"

"MOMM-"

Alright...

XXX

"MOMMY! MOMMY!"

Izuku's wails tore at Mitsuki's heart. The boy was wailing, inconsolable as a her and a nurse had to pull him from Inko's arms. What made it even worse was the woman, her friend, was slumping over so slowly. Her face which had been so sharp and then so happy to see her son, was going slack as if deflating. The doctor with the help of a few other nurses he was calling in rushed to her side and helped lay her down and my god, Mitsuki had never seen Inko look so small. So fragile. All the while, Izuku hadn't stopped crying, struggling and pulling with all his might against them to get to his mother. To her and probably the nurse's shock, he was actually gaining a little ground, little bare feet somehow gaining traction on a tile floor with two full grown women holding each arm. Had he always been his strong?

It was Masaru who'd been the deciding factor though. He swept Izuku up into his arms and carried him out. The boy's cries reached a new pitch of desperation Mituski knew in her soul no child should ever make. It took the work of two other nurses, her husband, and her to get him back to his room in the pediatric ward. Somehow, Izuku had managed to not only get out of his room but find his way to Inko's room near the ICU, another surprise to her since she'd never have found her way to his without the staff guiding the way.

Luckily, and Mitsuki felt a pang of self-loathing at the thought, Inko's boy had cried himself out. She sat with her husband on a pair of overstuffed yet somehow still very uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room that was near between both rooms. Masaru had his head in his hands, glasses pinched in his fingers and she was near to tears. This couldn't have happened to two people who deserved it less. There were no updates about Inko and a horrible thought came to her, one that brought back another bit of loathing for even considering it and a pang of sadness so great that she caught herself clutching at her chest. Would she make it? People had survived worse, she knew of many stories of people surviving falls from high places, bullet wounds through the head, or any number of things. What those stories rarely covered though was the life of the victim after. If Inko did pull through, would she even be able to live normally?

"It's been two days."

That comment put the brakes on her grim thoughts. Mitsuki looked at her husband who was still bent into his palms as if it was some kind of prayer.

It had been two days since the attack. The first she'd been made aware of it was on the TV that day, a day which had turned surreal as a call from the hospital informed her that her Best Friend and her son were in Urgent care, the former in critical condition. They'd come as soon as they could but were directed away when they first arrived, and now this afternoon with it's roller coaster of events happened. Now here was her husband stating the time that had passed as if she hadn't been here for it. She was about to say so when he raised himself up from his hands, a coolness in his eyes she'd never seen before. It wasn't for her, not even when he turned to meet her eyes. No, her husband was clearly angry...but not at her.

His next words had made it clear just who he was angry at though. "So where the hell is he?"

It was said like the curse it was and Masaru's out of character near swear had the effect of stirring a little heat in her chest. If she were honest with herself, it had been a thought she'd been avoiding.

The 'He' was Inko's husband. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, it wasn't where he should've been doing what he needed to be doing like being here for his family. Mitsuki didn't know what Inko's husband did for a living. 'Working abroad' was all that Inko had ever disclosed and she'd never pressed the woman for more details. It was clear that the man was providing for his family at a great sacrifice. Until today, she'd actually admired the man for his dedication. To be so far away, all to be a good man of the house.

Now, however she was wishing she'd had. It had better be something damn important because this situation was inexcusable.

There was no way the man was unaware, between everyone who had his contact information which included calls from the police and the hospital. She had no doubt that calls had been made to the company he worked for too. The only fucking way anyone could do any better in getting the man's attention was to carve a message into the goddamn moon.

And at this point, she was starting to doubt if that would even get his ass in gear. If it were her and she_ ever _got a phone call like the one she'd made to his phone, her ass would be in a plane seat so fast it the friction would light it on fire.

His absence was now was like salt in the wound. "I don't know." If Inko recovered, Mitsuki wasn't even sure if she should tell her or let her figure it out by herself. No, she'd tell her. A realization like that shouldn't be suffered without friends around. And Izuku...Oh, god. How would Inko even begin to explain that to him? She imagined trying to even broach the subject with Bakugo and she had to physically shake the idea off, it was so depressing.

If she didn't make it though...

That thought lingered with her even as visiting hours closed out and the two of them were courteously shown the way out.

It must've followed Masaru as well because when they picked up their son from daycare, he gave an extra long, extra big hug and then on the way home, between the two of them picking their words carefully, they began to explain where they had been going for the last two days and why when he saw Izuku he'd have to be extra nice since he's had a hard time.

Either way this went...they'd at least be there for the Midoriya family, no matter if only one member walked out of that hospital.

XXX

There was no gentle floating this time. There was only the sensation of falling, a void of black speeding past her as she tumbled through an empty nothing. The only way she was even able to recognize that she moving was the streaks of white lines that passed before her eyes in chaotic swirling curves. She flailed her arms wildly in a vain hope to catch herself. Nothing happened as she tried to call for help. Her voice was silent even though she knew she should've been screaming at the top of her voice. Then...the white lines began to shrink, resolving into dots and the sinking sensation of plummeting stopped.

However, the decelerating descent became a peripheral concern when the realization hit her that the dots surrounding her were stars.

But that was insignificant compared to the massive orb that loomed above her. Even as she looked at it, she knew that it was a planet but it was unlike any she'd ever seen in a textbook. It was so crimson that if it hadn't been for the streaks of yellow that she could only guess were clouds or land or something, it would look more like a giant ball of blood hanging in the void of space.

That's where she was, it had to be.

She felt the heat before she saw the flash, it was as if someone had shined a light directly into her eyes while walking into an oven. What had just happened...what-

_CHU~_

There was no slow pull out of the light closing in around her, just a snap to alertness as the pain and wooziness broke away like a hangnail. She straightened, half-sitting up and was just recognizing the sensation against her cheek as lips, which pulled away as she flinched awake.

"Looks like I got here none to late, dear. Looked like you were having a nightmare."

Still trying to adjust to the sudden explosion of clarity, Inko slowly looked to the voice next to her hospital bed. "Huh?" The question tumbled from her mouth as she registered who it was. She knew this hero, a name big enough that even she knew her name

The elderly woman looked down at her through a visor attached to a pink helmet, a white lab coat open to slightly show a more colorful outfit underneath.

Recovery Girl.

"Good morning." The woman greeted kindly. "A little confusion is expected after what you've gone through, dear." She began, leaning her slight weight into her syringe-shaped cane. "Sorry for being late."

"Sorry?" While she was now alert, her brain was still trying hard to catch up with her mouth.

"I should've been here yesterday but things have been hectic for the last week."

"Yesterday?" If Recovery Girl was irritated by her echoing, she didn't show it. In fact, she gave her a gentle smile. "Don't worry about that. I'm here now and I suspect you're quite thirsty." The woman nodded, only now noticing that her tongue was dryer than she'd ever remembered and a the small pressure in the small of her back.

The hero moved to the side table next to the bed and picked up a cup. Coming back to over to her, she hesitated for a moment. "I must ask this so please don't take offence but do you need help to drink?" Inko shook her head, gingerly reaching out for the cup, taking it from the woman's hands and being care not to spill it as she sipped. The water was lukewarm, she noted but to her parched throat it might as well have been the spring runoff from the snow melt it was so refreshing.

The hero's smile brightened, as Inko set the now empty cup down. "Good. You're able to hold down water." She took a seat on the doctor's stool nearby, all good cheer and almost motherly presence. "So first things first? Any lingering pain?"

With her tongue moistened and brain finally catching up, Inko took a moment to check herself. She moved robotically, first flexing one hand then another, and then moved her arms. It was when she began moving her left shoulder that a sting shot across it and, as if the nerves were following a road-map, ran a path down her back to her left hip and ending at the meat of her left thigh.

Her wince must of shown because she got another nod from the hero but her smile was less cheerful. "Well, that is good. Pain is a good sign." Standing up, she went over to the foot of the bed and picked up a clipboard. "Dr. Shirokuro, who I should mention I'm very annoyed with that he started questioning you when you were in such a state, informed that you remembered what happened. Do you still remember?"

She did. It wasn't hard. "There was a robbery. The details are a bit fuzzy though."

"Take you time, dear." Recovery Girl soothed, flipping a few pages. "I'm not here to take a statement, that is a job for the police. I just want to make sure that you can recall." Her lips pressed into a line which tightened the wrinkles on her face as she stared on what was on the page. It was enough to make Inko nervous. "The reason why the pain is good is because you and your son were on the receiving end of a massive electrical attack. I checked in on him first and neither of you haven't suffered any nerve damage which is a good sign for injuries like these."

As she said this, she flipped the clipboard around so that what had removed the smiled from her face could been seen. Inko's jaw dropped.

It was a set of two pictures. One of what she knew was her back and another of her thigh. The angry crimson scar on it stood out, an angry inflamed red. Like a bolt of lighting mixed with frost, it started as a central splash right at the top of her shoulder that spread in cracks and branches some of which ended in red tendrils so thin that the could've been drawn with a pen. It curved along her hip and to her side which ended at her thigh. The picture of her back didn't have a good angle on it but the other one did. The jagged shape was stamped there, tiny cuts and scrapes having opened up tiny wounds. It took her awhile to find her words and when they came she couldn't hide the waver in her voice. "How did that happen?"

"I won't mince words. Your cell phone saved you life." She began, lowering the pictures to the sheets. "The shock was dispersed and your cellphone took the brunt of it. It exploded which is why you have cuts on your thigh. By all accounts, if you hadn't had it, all that charge would've passed through you heart or some other major organ."

Inko glanced at the pictures again, not liking the idea of some as simple as a cellphone having been the only thing that kept her alive. A shiver ran up her back. Nope, she didn't like that idea at all. She continued to look and something caught her eye about the photo.

"Unfortunately, I can't help with wounds that are deep, Mrs. Midoriya. Some I can completely heal but even so there are remnants of it left." The hero continued speaking and Inko was listening but...she picked up the picture of her back and peered hard at it.

Something was on her, a brown strip lay flat across her right hip, in her initial shock she'd passed it off as a piece of cloth but it just didn't look right.

"...seems like you can handle some visitors." The hero's voice came back into focus and Inko twitched in surprise. Looking up, she saw the woman had the smile again. "Someone has been quite frantic to see you."

Recovery Girl made her way over to the door and opened it just enough to stick her head out. "You can come in now."

She stepped aside and Izuku shuffled quietly in with a nurse in tow, looking more nervous than she'd ever seen him. His green eyes looked to her the to Recovery Girl as if asking for permission, his hands working at each other. The hero gave him an encouraging nod and Izuku inched closer, clearly afraid of doing something wrong.

Inko helped her son up as he got to the bed and held him in her arms. This time there were no words from him, she could feel his little body trembling against her, hear the muffled sobs, she could feel the same pain.

"I'm awake now, " She soothed, patting his head. "And I'm not going anywhere."


	2. Act 0-2

"_Izuku, don't believe a word of what the doctor says." That__'__s what my mom had told me the day I was diagnosed as Quirkless. The same day of the robbery, ironically enough. "You won't develop a Quirk, but he is talking nonsense when he says it's impossible to be a hero. He doesn't get to decide who gets to be a hero or not. No matter if you have a quirk or not, hero__e__s are not decided by their power but by their character. All Might __is always__ ready to help, just like you are and no doctor can __say__ you don't have that quality. Quirk or not, Izuku, you're closer to All Might than most."_

_As wise as those words are, I know now that she was trying to make me feel better. What good mother wouldn't__?__ I had all but gotten my dreams of being a hero smashed that day and she pulled me out of what could've been the start of a nasty depression. Still what she said stuck with me and even if she was trying her best to make me feel better, she didn't pull that out of whole cloth. She recognized something in me that, even years later I had only just __begun__ to grasp about myself._

_Of course, after that she'd taken me to the corner store near where we lived and the rest is, as they say, is history. Our lives ended that day. She and I were changed, though we didn't know how much at the time and the first domino in a long line of them was flicked and began to tip._

_-My Mother The Warrior_

* * *

Inko blinked as she looked down her son's back.

A tail.

That's what it had to be. It was furry, brown, and thick like large snake and it was moving just behind him.

A pressure at her back, one that she hadn't quite registered, shifted and she nearly jumped out of the bed with her son in her arms. "What?!"

She looked down to see a small fuzzy nub sticking between the sheets and her bed. She then looked at the hero in shock.

For her part, Recovery Girl looked unsurprised. "Well, that was the other thing I wanted to mention, dear. It seems as if you've developed a secondary quirk. The tail grew on you and your son apparently grew while in transport to the hospital."

Izuku pulled away sightly, his face, while still wet with tears, glowed when he smiled. "I've got a quirk now, Mom! You were right, the doctor was wrong!" In a movement so quick that Inko was surprised she could follow it, Izuku let go and backflipped off her bed. This time everyone yelped at the unexpected jump and she was about to leap off the bed to catch him. Her shock was doubled when instead of smacking face first into the floor, Izuku landed gently on his tail with legs split and arms spread for balance. Giggling, he did a few hops, bouncing around in a circle like his tail was a pogostick before dropping to his feet as the nurse who'd brought him in told him to stop. "You're not in shape to be doing that," she scolded in the exasperated way Inko recognized as an adult having repeated themselves several times.

Her son looked back at her, smile wide and happy. "See, Mom?"

She did. And she could barely believe it. That day… the day she'd thought couldn't have gotten worse until the robbery.

Not for Izuku, though that was enough of a surprise, but her own tail.

"How?" She asked, completely confused. "This..."

Suddenly, the comment about wagging made more sense. She bent forward off the bed enough to feel the whole length of the tail. It moved like a living thing, squirming under her touch as she traced it all the way up to the base of her spine. "This makes no sense."

"It's quite possible that this quirk lay dormant for your son. It's quite possible this Quirk also came from your or your husband's grand and great grandparent. While it's not unknown for a person to be born with multiple quirks, it's rare and in your case, Mrs. Midoriya, it's quite unheard of for anyone to develop a quirk this late in life."

"But, his toe joint..." Inko faded, she didn't want to sound like she was unhappy for the development. Her son wasn't Quirkless and that was great but… this was a lot to process. She had a dormant Quirk? She reached out to the empty cup she just drank out of and pulled it towards her like she'd done so many times over the years. It floated into her hand without issue.

Apparently guessing at what she was doing, Recovery Girl nodded. "There shouldn't be any complications between your Quirks, don't worry.

A knock at the door cut off any questions that she wanted to ask and the want to do so left her as soon as she saw who entered.

Two men made their way in. One was obviously a police officer; his dark blue uniform, peaked white cap, and badge pinned on his chest while the other was in a trench coat and matching fedora. The latter was tall, so much so, that when he leaned over to Recovery Girl, he had to bend quite a ways to meet her like a grown adult addressing a child. Inko found it difficult to keep a straight face, it looked so ridiculous.

Her attention was taken by Izuku as he bounced from his tail back to the bed, turning a full flip in the air and landing on the rail so gently that she barely felt the impact. It was enough to shock her into action. "Izuku," she warned, her voice firm but not harsh. Guiding him off the rail by his hips, she patiently swept him up with both hands and onto her lap. "You need to calm down." _Before you give the nurse a heart attack. _The woman in question looked like she was on the edge of fainting from that last stunt.

Her admonishment seemed to calm him down just enough before his face lit up. "Hey. Hey, mom. I can feel things too."

"Like what?" She wanted to focus back on her son but couldn't help but notice the man in the trench coat had raised his gloved hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in the heroine's ear. It was odd at first but as the other's face began to frown at whatever she was being told, it became clear that something was wrong.

"Mom. You're not listening." Izuku moaned, his hands patting against her chest for attention.

She looked down at her little boy who was giving her a grumpy look, cheeks puffed out in childish frustration.

After another minute of mumbled conversation that she couldn't make out, the man stood straight and at a wave from Recovery Girl, approached her bed. "Ma'am," he greeted, taking off his hat and bowing slightly. "I'm Detective Tsukauchi. How are you doing this morning?"

Inko hesitated only a moment before speaking. "I'm fine. And you?"

"The same."

An awkward moment followed as Recovery Girl, asked the nurse to take Izuku out in the hall for a little while.

Izuku looked at her then his mother and his little arms tightened around her, fingers gasping as if she were the only handhold on the edge of a cliff. Inko could see that all traces of that happy energy had fled and the beginnings of panic tinged his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Izuku. It will just be a moment." She soothed, putting on a smile that she didn't feel. She'd expected to be questioned by the police at some point but this was early and she was getting a bad feeling about what they were about to discuss. It might be best that he wasn't here for this.

Reluctantly, he let her go and allowed himself to be guided out of the room.

The police officer exited with them, leaving her with the detective and hero. As soon as the door shut, she spoke. "May I ask what I can do for you, officer?"

Stepping forward, he pulled a digital recorder and notepad out of his pocket and, setting the former down on the side table, turned it on and stated. "I am her to take your statement of the incident that took place three days ago."

It was a simple enough request, she figured. So, she told him everything about what happened; how she had got to the that store to buy her son a treat, that she'd avoided the boys who been making noise at the magazine racks, how she'd idly noticed the backroom door was open and how odd that had seemed at the time, and that she'd just been about to pay when the attack started.

It was in the middle of her telling, the part where she'd grabbed her son and the other man whose name she didn't know and had made for the only escape available, when the enormity of what she'd survived finally sunk in. Maybe it was just in the surreal nature of saying it aloud but it finally clicked into place.

Someone had tried to kill her.

Someone nearly succeeded in killing her.

_A murderer was out there. _It twisted her stomach into hard nauseating knots and she had to grip the handrail of her hospital bed to fight off the dizziness that followed. _C__ould this get any worse? How was he still out there?_

"Ma'am?" Tsukauchi's voice snapped her back to the present. "Are you well?"

"Yes." Clearing her throat, she hoped to pass it off as a moment of distraction. She didn't know if she was convincing but the man thankfully didn't pry any further and nodded. "Please continue."

She gathered her thoughts then shook her head. "There is not much to continue after that. I know I planned to go for the door but it gets fuzzy even before that. Guess I didn't make it."

A few more notes were jotted down and then the notepad was shut and the recorder pocketed, most likely now off.

The moment it was, Inko wasted no time.

"Now that we're off the record, what exactly is going on?" Throughout her entire statement, the suspicion of something being off had hung around. It actually grew harder to ignore as the detective hadn't asked her anything. Beyond the initial request for a statement, he hadn't asked for clarifications or for a little more detail. "Something tells me that you came here for more than my statement.

The man hesitated, not expecting to be called out and clearly hesitant to respond.

Recovery Girl recovered for him. "I'm afraid that one of the villains who attacked you at the store has escaped." Moving closer to stand next to him, the tap of her cane was a counterpoint to Inko's stunned silence.

With a short cough that she figured was less clearing his own throat and more signal he was taking back charge of the conversation. He seemed more willing to speak straight with her now that the unpleasant news was out in the open. "Um, yes. He's still at large. The whole city is on high alert and searching."

He said this like it was meant to make her feel better.

It didn't.

A villain who'd killed two people like it was nothing, who's attempt to kill her had balanced on the edge of a _cellphone _of all things, couldn't be found? "It's been three days, right?" she asked, if only to make sure.

Not just that but the equivalent of an army of heroes and police searching for three days hadn't turned him up yet?

No, she wasn't feeling better at all.

"We have everyone available combing the city, ma'am. He won't escape."

He said something more but by then she'd stopped listening. He mind spun, struggling to understand it. If he had escaped, what did that mean for her? For her son?

In a flash, she recognized the true import of that other police officer leaving the room. It hadn't been for privacy. He was a guard. She put a hand to her face, her thigh and back tingling for some reason. "Detective Tsukauchi? Be honest with me, do you think he might come after us?"

The silence that followed and the look she caught them sharing in the corner of her vision made all clear. "It's unlikely but we don't want to take any chances."

She almost laughed. Unlikely but enough of a chance that they thought her son and her needed a guard? A voice in the back of her mind said that they were just doing due diligence.

And yet… it was irritating. Her jaw tightened at the disrespect, the sheer gall of the insult dropped into her lap like a rotten piece of fruit. Why wouldn't they just be up front with it? Did they think she couldn't handle telling her straight that she might need a guard? Was she that useless in their eyes? Who were they to talk down to her? Was she, Inko Midoriya, so pathetic in their eyes that they thought she couldn't protect her own son?

Again, as when she'd nearly unconsciously strangled the doctor, the thought of her son brought a ferocious calm upon her. Instead of a crashing wave meant to bowl her over, it was an embrace, warm and under pressure, a simmering displeasure that turned from them to the probable threat.

A squeak came from somewhere in the room but it was a distraction she refused to entertain. She wasn't going to be cowed, by these two or by a...by a…

An animal. A wild butcher and nothing more. A rabid wolf that, if it did come would be expecting a lamb.

She found her mouth forming the words before she realized what she said. "No, thank you."

"I'm sorry?"

With quickly eroding patience, she spoke again, looking up and right into the eyes of the police detective who…

Had he flinched?

"Don't bother with the guard. We won't need it." She spoke carefully and calmly, enunciating her words. "_I_ won't need it."

The man opened his mouth as if the argue but Recovery Girl tapped him in the leg with the butt of her syringe cane and he nodded.

After a quick discussion about remembering things and calling, he passed her a white card embossed with his name and number before he left, the heroine following right behind. She gave another kind smile and a wave, saying how Dr. Shirokuro could take it from here.

And indeed he did and thus distracted Inko to the point that she never noticed the slight warp in the hospital bed handrail where her own palm would've fit into surprisingly well.

The next two hours were filled with nothing but one test after another. The only one who found them more annoying that she did was Izuku, who had a hard time keeping still for most of them even with her coaxing. While Inko had never seen her son so foul tempered, not all of his irritation was from the tests.

The good doctor seemed to be trying to be as obtuse as possible and when, after what had been promised to be the very last test, a knock sounded on her door, she was this close to shouting go away at the top of her voice.

Her bad mood fled quickly in in a flurry of flowers, balloons, and the smiles of the three people who carried them in.

"Mitsuki? Masaru?"

"KAACHAN!" Izuku sprung to his feet and tackled the other four year old in a hug, very nearly taking him off his feet. "Hey. Hey. Guess what? I got my Quirk!" He announced, letting the other boy go and turning around the show off his tail. "Pretty cool, huh?" All of this was said so fast and so loud that, there was not even a moment for the other boy to get a word in.

"Inside voice," Inko warned.

Izuku flushed slightly and gave her a fast nod that had his hair bouncing. Still, it hardly mattered as her son took Bakugo by the wrist and they both took off for the hospital playground as fast as their little legs could carry them.

She knew that was where Izuku was going because that was all he could talk about during the tests, all but getting on his knees to beg the doctor to let him go play. Now that he had a chance to leave, with his best friend in tow no less, she'd be stunned if he went anywhere else. She didn't miss the look Mitsuki gave her own child just before they sped out the door.

The blonde woman spoke first as she handed over the flowers while her husband set the balloons on the side table. "How're ya doin', Inko?"

"Just fine." She answered, slipping a side hug around her as she took the bouquet. "I figure we'll both be out of here by this evening once the test results come in."

Both husband and wife stared at her, eyes wide. "That fast?"

She covered her mouth, holding in a laugh. Of course, they wouldn't know. They were probably stunned that she could speak much less be able to walk out of here on her own two feet before the day was out.

"Recovery Girl made a personal visit." She explained. "She's not known for half measures."

Nods of understanding followed and Masaru smiled, pushing his glasses a little higher up his nose. "So, clean bill of health?"

She shook her head, lifting the sheets the show her thigh and then turning around so they could see her back. A gasp accompanied each one. "Both sting like you wouldn't believe but they look worse than they are."

"But they'll heal?"

Inko nodded as she got herself comfortable again. "It's good to see you two."

Masaru rubbed the back of his neck and Mitsuki seemed to struggle looking her in the eye.

She didn't know how but something in her statement must've made things awkward. Which wasn't right because nothing in that statement should've been worthy of awkwardness.

Seconds passed, her genuine comment curdling in the silence. "Inko..."The blonde faded clearly having something to say but not able to phrase it right. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Umm...I guess?"

"Like very personal?"

"I'm..." Suddenly, Inko wasn't quite liking the direction this was going. But certainly it couldn't be that bad? "Go ahead."

Mitsuki paused and glanced and Masaru nervously before she finally looked her in the eye. "Where is your husband?"

Inko's entire world froze. Her breath caught in her throat, the words hit her like a spike of ice driven by a sledgehammer.

Not until now, had she realized just how hard she'd been trying to ignore it. The police and drama and questions and everything had been one great distraction from the fact that Hisashi wasn't there when she'd woken up. It had been three days and yet he wasn't here. She knew the hospital probably called and the Katsuki family clearly had, otherwise why ask. So why…?

Only when she was certain that she could trust her voice, did she answer. "I don't know."

She wanted to say more but what could she?

"He's..." Even trying to say the word 'busy' took that spike and twisted it.

"Maybe..." She knew what a lie 'he is on the way' would be. If he wasn't here by now, then he wasn't coming.

"But-" Her attempt at digging an answer that wouldn't carve her to the bone was cut as Mitsuki leaned in and hugged her.

"Inko." Her voice wavered slightly as she squeezed her tight. "Inko, I'm sorry. I shouldn't… I didn't mean..."

Why wasn't he here?

The question remained unanswered.

It was 6:37 by the time they were released and the first thing Izuku said when they exited the hospital couldn't have been more apt. "I'm hungry."

Inko was starving as well. She'd been to a hospital before in her younger years and somehow between then and now, the food had gotten worse. Though she'd only got some steamed bun, it had somehow managed to taste plasticy and stale though it was warm. She ate it, though.

She thought about how much food was in the fridge at home and then thought about how much she felt like shopping and cooking right now. "So am I, let's go to that diner near the house."

"Yay! Can I have..."

"Anything you want, Izuku. As much as you want."

The trip over there was quick, even with her slight limp. The place was on the way home so it was also not an extra train or bus away. The only hitch in it was the waitress's reaction when they placed their orders.

"So you want; 2 large orders of buffalo wings, two double cheeseburger combos one of which will have an extra order of chili fries, one plate of french toast, a short stack of pancakes, a spaghetti combo with extra garlic bread, a chocolate milkshake with the works, a patty melt on Texas toast, a Katsudon bowl, and 10 pieces of bacon?"

The waitress, looking rather shaken then turned to Inko. "And...uhm...what...?" She cleared her throat, and put the pen to the paper. "What will you be having, Ma'am?"

She made her order as well. The pen fell from the woman's fingers as her eyes bulged even wider than when Izuku had placed his order. To her credit, she recovered quickly. "That...ahem... Is quite a lot of food. I don't mean to be rude but this is over 33,000 yen worth. Can you pay for it?"

Inko didn't take offense as she'd probably have said the same if the roles were reversed. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her card. "I can pay now if you like."

It took the waitress, the head cook, the manager, and the owner – who was apparently there that afternoon – coming to her table to confirm that yes, she could pay and no, this wasn't a joke and yes, they were eating here. At that point, they had attracted some attention from the other customers who noticed the commotion happening in that part of the restaurant but it was nothing compared to when the food started coming out.

They began to eat, Inko paying no mind to the cellphones and chattering as her and Izuku tore into the food with wild abandon. She hadn't realized how ravenous she was until she'd taken that first bite of her salad and, after that, mother joined son in falling upon the food like wild animals. She did her best to mind her manners but the tomato soup was just so much better then the watery sop they served at the hospital.

Plates clattered as they were stacked. Forks and knives flashed, and chopsticks clicked. What would have been enough food for a party of 20 with seconds and thirds left over, was demolished over the course of three hours.

Inko hadn't noticed until she'd finished the last sip of her tea and a final bite of her whole cake, that not only did they have an audience but a local news crew had set themselves up at some point. Izuku, who scooping what was left of his milkshake in his mouth noticed all the eyes on him as well, and flushed. The both of them hadn't been entirely clean while they ate and it was probably hitting him that they'd been watching for awhile.

It was seeing the looks on the faces of the people that she realized and was amazed by the massive meal they were wrapping up. And in her case, she was still a little peckish. Maybe another slice of- She shoved the tantalizing thought from her head and watched as her son nibbled away on her last slice of toast.

Some people applauded then as they left. Other wanted to stop them for a picture but, again, she ignored them all. The food coma was setting in, Izuku's eyes were already drooping when they arrived back home. Unlocking the front door, her son stumbled in ahead of her, went to his room and dropped into bed without even changing. She wanted to join him, to fall into her own bed and sleep the rest of the evening away.

But the question remained. She felt a flutter of hope when she noticed the answering machine blinking at the phone.

However, it was after nearly going through the entirety of them that the flutter began to die. It was after another message left by Katsuki that she heard a voice that she'd certainly not heard in a long while.

Her Grandmother's.

'Hello, Inko. I tried calling your phone but I couldn't get through. Your phone is disconnected apparently. So I'm calling you on your other line. I know it's been some time since we've talked but I wanted to talk whenever you have the time.'

Inko sat at the table as the message ended with a _BEEP_ and thought. It had been quite a bit since she'd talked with her, even longer since the last visit. She couldn't call right now, her grandmother was no doubt already in bed but it would be good to ta-

_End of new messages._

The automate voice brought everything to a halt. So, not even a message. A phonecall? No explanation?

She snatched up the receiver and got as far as pressing the first button before ending the call. What if he picked up? What on Earth could he even say that would make any of this okay?

Her finger dialed four numbers before she shut the phone off again. What if something happened? An emergency of some sort? Here she was riled up and angry and her husband could be in a hospital or dead for all she knew. What if… she closed her eyes to calm herself but her thoughts charged ahead heedless of what she wanted.

But if there was no accident, no excuse, what then?

The entire number was dialed, several ringtones all of which Inko wasn't sure if she wanted it picked up or not, and then his voicemail.

She sat at the table silent, trying to think of something to say. When her mind stayed blank, she forced herself.

"H- hello...um. Hisashi?"

She almost hung up again, hating how tiny and fragile her voice sounded. That was so stupid. This was his voicemail, he wasn't going to just pick up. Quickly, she rallied her mind and spoke. "Our son and I are out of the hospital. We were there for three days. I..."

Where was he?

"Where were you?"

And with that drop, what she wanted to say flowed through her.

"Where were you? She asked again to nobody. "Where are you, Hisashi? Near half a week, Hisashi. More than three full days your son and I spent in that hospital. They called your cellphone and your assistant's number. The hospital even told me they tried the business number as soon as I was brought in. Why haven't you called? Why aren't you even here?"

At some point, she stood up and made for the balcony so that if she raised her voice, which was as tight as the pain in her chest, she wouldn't wake her son. "Did you even check your phone?" she hissed, voice rising as she shut the sliding glass door behind her.

"Where are you? You tell me nothing about your work and even less about where you are. I've been taking the initiative to keep you up-to-date with Izuku. You haven't tried to call once in months. _I_ had to call _you _so Izuku could talk to you on his birthday. I've been making sure you keep contact with your son, and the one time you should've called, when our little boy and I are nearly killed, you can't even bother to pull your nose out of the dirt long enough to check in? You know our little boy has his Quirk now?"

She fumed as she glared at the evening city skyline before looking up at the orange clouds. "You're so out of contact that no red flag was registered when I hadn't called you. Did you even think it was odd that Mitsuki, of all people, was blasting your phone non-stop? And forget about how I'm feeling about this, do you think that just because Izuku is a child, he won't remember this? The time he nearly died and his father didn't even bother to _call_?" Izuku was still riding on that happiness of getting his Quirk but eventually, he'd think back to this moment and ask questions that made Inko's heart ache to even consider.

"I highly suggest you make the effort to actually be a part of Izuku's life. You need to really sit down and think about what is truly important. It doesn't matter if you're still sending money, you should've been here."She hung up after that, anger and heartache building in her chest. The city below grew fuzzy and she wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and then dialing another number, held the phone to her ear.

To her surprise, it was picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

Inko smiled in spite of the tears running down her face. "It's me, Grandma."

XXX

Shota Aizawa was officially too tired and too old for this shit. "So what you're telling me," He started as he scratched at his scraggly beard. "Is that you lost these maniacs near an international airport and didn't think to… I don't know? Put out an ABP through Interpol?"

The face of the American hero on the screen, which had already been tightened in irritation, pinched further as if Aizawa personally shoved a lemon into his mouth. The hero in question was known as Apollo, the head of one of the government-sponsored hero teams in the states, and the man's mood was just as sour as his expression.

_Good, about time someone else's day was soured._ He wasn't dealing with one of this year's biggest damn messes. He'd already had people breathing down his neck to find out where the hell this guy came from but then as it always happened, the footage from inside the store had been leaked to the media and, before they could even put out a statement, the vultures started circling.

He hadn't even had time to rest since yesterday after being dragged out of his bed to start searching through every file they had to identify who these villains were. It was a monumental task made worse by the fact they had _nothing._ Nothing when the media was calling on the heroes and government to do SOMETHING was about the worst scenario he could've imagined… right up until a call from the Americans had called. The reason why he and his team couldn't find anything in the archives was because the suspect wasn't from Japan. He didn't have any records because he wasn't even a damn citizen.

And again, he had been thinking it couldn't possibly get worse and was proven wrong as Apollo explained the Bonnie and Clyde pair had been blazing a trail of killings from the East to West coast and somehow kept getting away, both of them evading local and federal law enforcement for nearly a month before getting trapped somewhere in Los Angeles. Only when the noose had started finally tightening, had the pair, as Apollo succinctly put it, 'just up and vanished.'

"We did as soon as we suspected he'd hitched a ride out of the country but we've had his face plastered on the news for months as well as had both border crossings alert and ready. Hell, even if this guy or his girlfriend had a passport, they should've been stopped before they got near an airplane."

'But they weren't,' was what Aizawa wanted to say but there wasn't any point rubbing salt in both their wounds. The villain duo had even somehow got through Japanese Customs as well. No, what was really a bur in his mind was the fact things seemed to be playing out in tandem to what the Americans were going through.

No one had found the bastard yet. They had patrols on the street pulling double, police were on alert, and every CCTV camera in the city was sweeping the streets, trains, and freeways for him. That was leaving out how the media had his face up everywhere a screen played the news.

All this… and they _still _couldn't find him. It was like he 'just up and vanished' from the building after the explosion, other cameras on the street caught footage of everyone present during the crime entering the store. The school boys, the mother and her child, and CrossCheck were all recorded entering the building. The explosion that blew out the windows with such violence that it sent shards of glass across the street to the other sidewalk had shaken a few of the cameras but hadn't caused any glitches in footage. Luckily, no one was near enough to get struck by the debris though some pedestrians were close enough to be knocked off their feet He could even read the licence plates of the cars driving past slamming on their brakes and even saw the slightly bent form of the store manager exiting the smoke calling for help. People, rubberneckers and good samaritans alike, closed in. One young woman even guiding the store owner away from the smoke. Yet nothing of the male suspect, no sight of him running or sneaking away in the chaos of the gathering crowd.

When the police vehicles had begun to roll in, he'd been certain that he'd have seen someone suspicious right then. If this had been easy he'd have marked a lone figure stooping, turning his back to the officers closing in on the scene and walking away from them in that 'Please don't notice me, I'm doing nothing wrong' body language most every criminal did when trying to be unassuming.

There was no figure. There was no one leaving the scene who was even dressed like the suspect, much less acting oddly enough to be picked out by his eye and by the time Endeavor arrived, so had the media with their camera vans pulling up outside the police line.

All and all, a fat wad of nothing to show for hours of combing footage frame by goddamn frame.

It was frustrating enough to make him scream.

Instead of doing that, Aizawa leaned back in the chair with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples with one hand and drumming his fingers in thought on the arm of his chair. "We can send backup if you require it." Apollo began but was stopped by a raised hand from Aizawa. American heroes on the ground was the last thing they needed. Their media already was having a field day and if they accepted, the ammunition they'd give them would be like cannon to the walls of their good standing.

Just imagining the headlines made his head pulse.

And that was leaving out the political bureaucracy and red tape that came with buddying up with supers from another country.

"Your offer is welcome but we can handle it. We'll call you back, if we need more information." He tapped a button on the laptop before him and the screen blacked out, only to be replaced with dossiers on the two villains that he'd been sent. With a heavy look, he raised his head and swept the room with his eyes.

The conference room he sat at the head of was silent. A long table had filled in the space, five chairs on each side each one with a hero seated. Each one had their own laptops which were built into the table and linked to his. All of them had seen his conversation and none looked happy.

Even those with their face covered by their costume had a tell in the way their eyebrow furrowed, a cheek twitched or a hand clenched an armrest. The tension in the room was thick enough that he could chew on it. Everyone was frustrated by the lack of evidence to track this murderer down and by the fact that essentially, the American's had simply dropped the ball so hard that it might as well have broken bones as it fell into their lap. They all wanted to be out there to for a chance to make an arrest, to keep him from doing what he'd done again.

Hell, even as tired as Aizawa knew he was, if he knew what hole this son of a bitch was lurking in, he'd find the energy to arrest him after beating his ass. Or maybe that was just an itch for vengeance talking. Speaking of, his eyes paused on the only empty chair in the room. It was seated next to Yagi but he didn't need the seating order to know who was still on the streets right now.

"Okay. All of us are familiar with the footage at the scene," Aizawa announced, exhaustion making it more of an sigh. "So, I'll get the quick and obvious out of the way 'cause I want to get this covered in one take."

All attention came to him breaking the tension a little as he tapped away on his laptop and pulled up the files the American's had sent along with their own. The girlfriend was pulled up first. Her mugshot from the files along with the charred remains that had been removed from the scene. It was an example of sheer opposites. The girl in the photo was young and could've been considered pretty but for a very disdainful look on her face that seemed to age her considerably. Her blond hair was short, dirty, and her sneer showed off gap in her front teeth. Next to it, the corpse on screen wasn't recognizable in the slightest. Aizawa honestly couldn't tell if it was male or female, the form so badly burned.

"Sahara Burns," he began, pausing to blink as he began to read off the file. It took three scans of it before he was certain his eyes were working correctly. "15 years old."

While everyone could see it, Aizawa had to guess that his saying it aloud made it real in some way. The effect it had was varied. Some cursed under their breath, some sighed as if disappointed at the state of the world, most were silent and still like they were poker players in a tournament.

"Quirk: Dehydration through physical contact. Ten confirmed homicides through its use." He tapped again and brought up the photo of CrossCheck – Yoshida Takuya out of costume – up. The letters KIA under the tab labeled 'Status,' and left the confirmed tenth death unspoken.

He'd met the guy once, too energetic for his tastes but a good heart nonetheless.

Heart or no, he was gone now and the last thing Aizawa wanted to do was ratchet up tensions again by showing the marred body of a fallen hero. "Killed in engagement with CrossCheck."

"Are we sure?"

He looked up to the hero who'd spoken and nodded his head. "Everyone but the other criminal has been accounted for, injured and dead." He looked back at the file and began to close out the pictures. "While it's not confirmed, we have her dental records now and a comparison is being made as we speak."

Apparently satisfied, the hero leaned back in his chair.

'Then we have a bigger damn problem but one disaster at a time, please.' Instead of snapping that off, he took a deep breath, reaching for his cup of coffee, sipped the cold brew, and pulled together his nerves. "We'll deal with the results later. For now, lets focus on variables we know."

And so, he brought up other the villain's profile. The Americans had sent over everything they had;from school records to criminal history to psychological diagnosis. It was the latter of which that served as his current focus. If they could understand how this man thought, then certainly it would be part of the first steps when it came to tracking him down… At least, that was the thought.

Alan Blane was a 17 year old basket case with a versatile electricity Quirk. Expelled from three schools by the time he was twelve, the last of which mainly had him institutionalized for burning out the eye of a girl in his class. Spent pretty much the entire rest of his life in a ward until he was given an early probationary release for 'Good Behavior.' Said 'Good Behavior' apparently lasted a surprising twenty-four hours after his release upon which he murdered his family and started his near month-long killing spree. Oh, and of course, he broke his girlfriend out of the female section of the ward like this whole situation was some kind of sappy romantic comedy. The kind Fukukado would be first in line at a movie theater for.

Then there was their list of crimes going from one place to the next. It was clear they didn't care about stealing so much as causing as much death and destruction as they could manage. They'd hold up a store and one by one, kill those they took hostage no matter if they complied or defended themselves.

He'd gotten to the point where they had been tracked down near the airport when another question came up, this time from Yoroi Musha. The man's antique armor clinked as he shifted forward, apparently so he could be heard better, because he raised his voice just loud enough that it skirted on the edge of painful for the other's headache.

"How did they even get in the country in the first place?"

"The police are questioning Customs Officials and are trying to track down all of those people who were on that flight." Aizawa shrugged with the statement, bringing up another bit of camera footage as he did so. This was from the airport from three days ago, it being the only gate that had a departure from LAX around the time the two had vanished from American soil and had landed within the hour of their attack on the store. There was not a single camera view with them leaving the plane, from the gate or tarmac, and certainly not exiting the terminal.

Flight 2055. According to Flight Control, that particular plane and it's pilots and staff were already on their return trip. Apollo had made promises that they'd be questioned when they landed. "My current theory is that they stowed away."

A snort followed from someone else. "Where? The luggage compartment? For an 11 hour flight?"

He narrowed his eyes, trying to keep a hold on his flagging patience. He was giving it his best here really as the tone was uncalled for. "I said, its a theory." Theory or not, truthfully, Aizawa didn't think it held any water. More than a day, in an unpressurized, unheated section of a plane more than a mile in the air? Neither villain had the power set that would've allowed them to survive that and even if they did, the ground crew would have _had_ to see them exit. "I didn't say it was a fact."

That set the tone of the rest of the meeting. It was clear that he didn't have much and, with tensions high, he wasn't surprised when things fell apart. Soon,snide comments turned into insults, from there into arguments, and further into accusations of incompetence at everyone from the police to customs. He had to call a break to things when someone made a comment about Endeavor's absence that would've forced the man to spend time regrowing his eyebrows at the very least.

That is, if Endeavor had been present.

As people left, the hero known as Eraserhead rubbed his head. Eyes burning from all the time he'd been staring at a screen and pulse of the beginnings of a headache behind that, he relaxed as best he could as the door shut.

"Do you think it's him?"

Aizawa nearly fell out of his chair in shock at the voice. Sitting up straight, he looked to see Yagi still there. His arms were crossed, face serious as he looked at him. Normally, his friend would have probably made a joke or commented on his reaction and the fact he'd let it pass without comment was unusual. His gaze was hard, determined and focused and it was then that he realized that Yagi had been the only one silent this whole time.

"Who?" He finally said, his nerves raised just a bit higher by the other's behavior.

"Him."

A single word said but its meaning enough to make his heart tap dance in his ribs. It took him longer than he wanted to to find the strength at the thought. "Don't know but I think not. This is too bold for him."

"_Think_?"

"Yes, think. In all our time, he's never openly done anything like this. Adding in agents from the United States? That's absurd."

"Those two got in someway. Either they're both geniuses smart enough to get in undetected only to have a sudden stroke and walk into a random store to rob it or _someone_ helped them."

"Which means this supposed 'help' had to have been aiding them in America."

"And I hope you're wrong. Because for god's sake, Yagi, what you're suggesting is that his influence crosses borders," Aizawa stated as he stood up and moved to the window. The room overlooked the city and the hero couldn't suppress the horror at the idea of what he said. All for One with a reach like that, it made his knees feel weak. He couldn't believe he'd ever hope that Japan was the only one who had to deal with the monster hidden in their backyard. "I'm so tired right now and your idea just took away any chance I'd be able to shut my eyes tonight."

Whatever mirth could've been dug up from his joke was cut at the knees, when his phone rang. He checked the number, the Chief of Police, and answered it. "Yeah?"

"We managed to track down most of those on the plane and it's not good."

"_How_ not good?" The throb behind his eyes pulsed just that little bit harder.

"We found the passenger in question in his hotel room closet, dry like he'd been left in the sun too long. I just sent you the evidence."

A sigh. Aizawa tucked the phone to his chest to block the microphone and answered friend's question before he had a chance to ask. "Another victim." He put the phone back to his face and went for his laptop as it made a far too cheerful _**BING.**_ "Okay, so what else you got?"

"Well, our victim was a businessman and he had his laptop on."

"So?" The hero snapped, his thin patience being sawed at with the sharp scissors of not-getting-to-the-damn-point.

"With it's camera recording."

It didn't take even a moment to find the video file and Aizawa with Yagi looking over his shoulder, both watched it.

The video wasn't even halfway done before both were sprinting out the door. Eraserhead, already dead tired, didn't bother using any of the extra energy that he'd gotten from the shock of adrenaline to his system to speak. He just bowled his way through the hallway, around office workers and heroes alike. He felt so stupid now, his theory hadn't been exactly right. If he'd just taken the thought to its most logical conclusion, it wouldn't have felt like being caught so flat-footed when the truth came.

He didn't need to look back to know people were giving him odd looks as he sprinted for all he was worth. However, Yagi was doing the explaining for him, bellowing in his All Might voice. "GET BACK TO THE SCENE! NOW!"

XXX

"Only five minutes. Don't know how stable the building is."

Misuki nodded. That's all he really needed. He considered himself lucky he was being allowed in at all, honestly. It had been three days, and if he had to guess, his store was still a crime scene.

He gingerly stepped under the lifted the police tape, and nodded thanks to the police officer that followed. The younger man passed him a spare flashlight. "Here you are, sir."

The elderly man took it. "Thank you kindly," he responded. It wasn't night yet. The sun had cast the horizon into a multicolored haze of orange clouds and blue sky and the larger skyscrapers that had office lights on were only just starting to be noticeable. "Gotta say I'm a little surprised by the 'sir'. Ain't too often you younger folks are respectful to old fogies like me."

"I'm just doing my job, sir." The young man said with a nod. "But I really must ask that you hurry, I'm supposed to be guarding you at your home."

"I will, just one thing I need to grab." It had been an effort and a half to convince his escort to even allow him out of his home, his pleas falling on sympathetic ears instead of bouncing off senses numbed by duty. He had to put it on the officer's youth. If this had happened back in his day, he'd most likely would've gotten some hardline, unbending veteran of the law who wouldn't have let him walk down the block much less back the the scene of the crime.

Glass crunched under his shoes as he stepped through the broken warped doors of his store and he couldn't help but feel his chest ache at the sight of his life's work.

Thirty two of his sixty years on this earth had been in this place and now it was all gone. He swept the place with the flashlight settling on the bits of wall over the refrigeration units, the photos that once hung there had been of him and his family; of him and his late wife when they first opened, of the first Yen note they made, all huge moments in his life shattered or burned.

The shelving was warped, bent, and all around the place, like a giant hand had uncaringly swept everything aside.

The explosion had taken apart the place like a firecracker in a fruit bowl. The scent of burned plastic from the sealed snacks was still thick in the air even though a breeze had been coming through the windows. Truthfully, it turned his stomach slightly. He remembered back when he thought the worst smell he had to deal with was cigarette smoke and trying so hard to keep the delinquents who bought packs and packs of the stuff from smoking on his front step.

He chuckled as he reminded himself that he had to hurry and made for the counter. Yet, he stopped when he nearly stepped into a dry but dull red stain on the white tile floor. Even three days later, he could tell that it was blood.

Their blood.

The blood of Endo Kazuki and Ota Ren.

The two boys had been coming here for years since they were little. Misuki had practically watched them grow up and knew their families well. They were the typical best friends and they'd always spend and hour in his store after school even when they'd started playing baseball at their high school. Their club activity took up so much of their time, he knew. They'd complain about it to him every chance they could. Yet, they'd still found time to come here and mess up his magazine organization.

One of them was thinking of going to professional baseball in college. The other had been planning to try for Harvard or Oxford. For the life of him, Misuki couldn't remember which was gonna do which.

Now they were dead. Not even given a chance, just ended the way he would smack a spider with a broom. He hoped the heroes found that man… _no_, that creature and threw it down a deep hole where it would rot for the rest of its life. Too good for it, maybe but better than what he gave those poor kids.

What he gave that woman with the green hair.

It hadn't clicked until later, but that woman had saved his life. He'd been so confused, so horrified by what had happened that he'd never considered running until the woman had dragged him along. Now that he thought about it...

"Officer?" He began as he stepped around the stain that made him shiver to look at. "What happened to the woman and her child? Do you know?" He glanced at the man over his shoulder, in time to make out the tail end of a shrug.

"I don't know. Probably still in the hospital, if I had to guess."

"Shame. I hope she recovers. I'd like to thank her."

Misuki moved around the counter and had to step over the cash register to get to the drawer. The only one on the counter. He shuffled around in his pocket and pulled out the key he always kept with him. Unlocking it, he pulled it open and was just about to reach in to take what was inside when he heard a rattle.

It sounded strange like the clinking of change and the vibration of plastic against… something. He was about to look around for where it had come from when he noticed his arm. He'd pointed the flashlight down to better see inside the drawer and with his hand reaching in, got a perfect view of the thin hairs on his arm beginning to rise.

"Of...fic..er?"

The noise grew, a vibration that grew into a drone behind him and he whirled around the face the source. Or as best his old joints could manage and was met with his cash register. The thing was moving along the ground now, it's electronic display active but flashing nonsense. It shouldn't have been on in the first place, the power had been cut to the building, he was told. The police man had long since pulled his sidearm and had come around, aiming down at the register and speaking quickly into his radio before addressing him, his voice sharp and commanding. "Sir, you need to leave."

He was already going to the other end of the counter when droning turned into a banging, the machine going into some sort of seizure as it bounced up and down on the floor. Crackles of electric charges began playing along its surface, melting the plastic and causing the metal to glow with heat.

Then a glowing lightning bolt rose out of it, blue and brilliant and so bright that even when Misuki closed his eyes, it left a corona of sunspots.

The officer screamed, the gun fired and the light vanished. The old man tried to rub the spots in his vision away unable to see. Terrified, he stepped back and fell, his heel catching on something. He landed hard, his breath getting knocked out of him as he crashed into the floor.

He never got the chance to see what killed him. But he heard it.

Or rather, him.

A hard angry growling voice that dripped hatred in the single word it said. "Gotcha!"

* * *

**_A/N:_ All thanks for getting this chapter to read much MUCH smoother goes to ZFighter18 on SpaceBattles, who's had to put up with my pancaking flip-floppiness for a while in my struggle to get this story out. ****Please enjoy and leave comments/reviews/criticisms/and questions. I'll answer all I can.**


	3. Act 0-3

_Izumi Midoriya. I never got to know my Great-Grandma like my mother did yet her effect on my life was profound. I can honestly say that without her my mother and I would never have progressed as far as we did. Nor would we have known the cost of what we'd been given. It might be nice to eat anything you want and be able to stay trim with just a bit of effort, the heightened strength, the sharp senses, and all. Be that as it may, the bill for all of it had yet to come due and during that last hazy summer weekend while I was playing in the woods, my mother, as she told me years later, was having her world turned on its head. She come to Great-Grandma's house to relax and yet got the worse shock of her life, one that was probably echoed by me when I had our family history explained to me._

_I will not detail what I, and by association, my mother was told about ourselves in this book as that would counteract the point of this book. After all, I'm sure another scientist can explain the intricate nature of genetics and DNA in ways I cannot._

_-Izuku Midoriya, My Mother The Warrior_

* * *

"So we're going to Grandma's house?"

Izuku asked the question through the slightly open backseat door as Inko put the second and last suitcase in the trunk. She was surprised with how light it felt or maybe she hadn't packed as much as she thought. With a push, she closed it and went to the door, shaking her head but planting a kiss on her son's forehead. "No, we're going to _your _great-grandmother's house." She corrected gently. "She's _my _grandmother. Now legs in and check your tail."

_And how odd is that to say?_ The tails weren't inconvenient per say, hardly noticeable, at first. Yet, they were a detail that couldn't be ignored since they'd basically had an extra limb. Being right at the base of the spine, underwear and pants required modification or else there was a constant sensation of pressure there. She'd done what she could in the time she had, cutting holes for them…but it was basic and haphazard work. The hole in Izuku's shorts and her sundress weren't cleanly done. Izuku's shirt hid the hole and for her part, she just wore a long jacket for hers. She'd need to get a professional tailor eventually. One who worked with Quirks that forced wardrobe changes.

Izuku complied, sitting in the car properly and holding his tail close to his chest so that she could shut the door. As she walked around to get to the drivers side, she couldn't help but feel baffled and a little awed, not only with how the week had gone but just...everything.

Everything that had happened, she'd spent most of the night telling her grandmother about it. The gasps of horror and the shocked silence came at the points where she'd expected them to. It was once she'd exhausted every last detail of what her week had been like that she'd asked if they could spend the weekend at her house. Her grandmother eagerly said yes, which lifted a weight from Inko that she hadn't noticed until after she'd hung up the phone and went to bed.

In all honesty, the discussion to make the trip to her grandmother's home in the country was about the easiest one she'd ever had made. Musutafu, the city she had been living in for years and had planned to raise a family in, suddenly seemed too loud, too big, and far too stifling.

She'd never noticed her neighbors before but when she'd gone to sleep, it had been an effort not to notice the sheer presence of bodies around her. Arriving home yesterday had been like walking into a closet, shutting the door, and then noticing only then that people were crowding around outside.

Yet among one more another unusual in a week of extraordinary ones, the fact she'd decided to _drive_ to her grandmother's house was probably the one that was the most unexpected.

They weren't even that far from the train station and, in particular the most direct rail line to get there, five blocks if that. They could make it if the changed her mind right now.

She quickly shrugged off the unpleasant thought like an itchy coat. Daunting as a four hour drive was, though good sense told her the train ride would be faster on top of convenient, the idea of doing so was enough to make her inwardly cringe.

Whatever cabin fever had followed her out of the hospital yesterday clung to the back of her mind like a leech and refused to leave. It had been what had woken her up at 4:30 this morning and like an irritated nerve, throbbed at her to get up and do _something_.

So she took the time to pack for the visit, thinking that it would burn some energy.

It didn't.

So she cleaned the apartment. There was no need to leave a mess to come back to later. It was actually the vacuuming at the end of her cleaning spree that had woken Izuku up. So once she'd wrapped up her work, she helped him pack everything he would need.

Still, it didn't go away.

By the time they had left, she'd been seriously considering if running up and down the stairwell of the entire apartment building. At that point, it was obvious to her that she wouldn't get through the trip by rail with her sanity intact. Just the bus ride to the garage where the car was stored had been enough to grind her teeth and the wait for the car had been even worse. Her husband had it in the biggest, most up-to-date garages in the city which was completely automated save for a single attendant in a booth near where the cars exited. The employee, a woman about her age with an exceedingly professional bearing, requested her name.

When she'd given it, the woman typed it into a computer and, smiling, confirmed that she was on the list and that the vehicle would be down soon.

The rapidity of the whole thing caught Inko so flatfooted that she had asked, in retrospect, some exceedingly simple questions since she barely knew anything about the place. The employee if they had been nonplussed or annoyed by them, they didn't show it. In fact, she seemed all too eager to answer her, an attitude explained as Inko listened. Essentially, this garage used records given by the vehicle's owner in order to know who was and wasn't allowed to remove whichever vehicle they had stored here. And the car itself had the most meticulous record keeping Inko had ever heard of.

Nothing went unregistered or un-updated: times the vehicle was driven.

Who drove it.

How long the car wasn't present in the garage counted to the second.

The current millage, before and after its return.

The psi in each tire.

The level of gasoline in the tank. Again, before and after it's return.

And more that Inko was sure she was forgetting even now as she walked to the driver's side door, being careful not to bush against the polished to a mirror-shine paint. She knew, just knew, she'd looked like a fish by the time the employee had stopped speaking. Mouth opening and closing, she had to ask what kind of garage was this to have such a level of meticulous care. She'd only been struck silent at the answer.

This garage was used by the rich and famous and everything from classics worth millions to the most recent hyper sports cars were cared for here. The reason for such a high level of service was because they paid for such an expense.

An expense that Hisashi was clearly paying for. An expense that, when Inko asked about, opened up a whole world of questions she didn't want to think about. Oh, her husband had an ever growing list of things she was going to get answered. For now though, this trip was her priority and nothing was getting in the way of that.

She left the man a note anyway so if he did show up… he wouldn't worry. A kindness she hadn't wanted to give, at first.

The door opened with a soft click and barely made a sound as she shut it behind her, her tail lying across her lap.

Still long drive or not, it would be a quiet and somewhat pleasant one. Besides, she knew where she was going. At the time of her first visit to her grandmother's, there had been no tracks near where she lived. The choice back then was drive or get off at the nearest train station and walk for 2 hours. It wasn't a hard choice. Even now she could still remember every sign along the trip, every turn to take, and the view from the backseat of…

She quickly swept that thought away.

While Inko didn't drive often enough to self-justify the expense of owning a car, she was well aware of the quality of automobile she was seated in.

The two-tone black and gray Toyota Century was owned by her husband. The irony that she was now driving it wasn't lost on her. Swallowing the bitter sadness that came with that thought, she looked over her shoulder at her son and smiled. "All buckled in?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Then let's go."

The engine came to quiet attention as soon as she turned the key. Not even a hiccup or a wait for it to turn over.

Outrageously expensive with a service bill to match, she never understood why Hisashi bought it. Leaving out him never being here to drive it, this was the kind of car you hired a chauffeur for to get the most enjoyment out of it. Then again her husband's tastes were odd and, as she was beginning to figure, not cheap. He'd even splurged for a crew to come clean and detail it once a week, a service the garage provided.

Closing her eyes, she shoved the subject of him out of her head like the glowing coal it was. _The note had been left f if he did bother to show up._ It was after a deep breath that she noticed Izuku's voice. "Sorry, honey. Could you repeat that?"

Her son fiddled with the All Might figure in his hand. A light flush touched his cheeks and brightened his freckles. "Have I met Great-Grandma before? I don't remember."

"You have." Inko said, putting the car in reverse. "Though don't feel bad about forgetting. You were only two years old the last time we visited."

"Really?" For some reason he seemed awed by that.

"Really." Inko nodded. She grew concerned when an uncharacteristic look of determination came upon her son's face.

"Then I won't forget this time." He made his statement with the conviction only a child his age could pull off.

She couldn't stop herself from laughing as she turned the car out onto the empty street.

"Stop laughing, Mommy. I mean it!"

"I know you do."

The first five minutes of the drive were all Inko needed to confirm that her instincts had been right. Pulling out into the street and right into city traffic, she felt that ever present itch for activity fade. While still fairly early in the morning, the traffic was already picking up as the city came to life. Inko didn't mind, a hurry was the last thing she was in.

She planned to make this as fun as possible and there was no point in hurrying since the goal of the trip wasn't the destination. While she did want to see her grandmother again and get out of the city for some peace and fresh air, the main reason was for her son.

Inko glanced in the rear view mirror as she guided the car to a stop at the red light ahead. Izuku was playing in the backseat, humming to himself and fiddling with the All Might action figure in his hands. Smiling, like Inko hoped.

This week, starting as horrible as any could, got worse and the last thing she wanted was her little boy to dwell on it.

Those two teenagers in the store had been killed right in front of him and then he'd been put in the hospital. Those things would be traumatic for any child but on top of that, his father hadn't showed up. It was that last thing that hurt Inko the most, she was still trying to come to terms with it herself. How do you explain to a child why their father didn't come when they were hurt? It wasn't a question to ask while you were alone in bed or, even worse, asked by a tactless child when you go back to school. It going to take some careful explaining, hopefully her grandmother could offer some wisdom.

However, that unpleasantness could come later. She focused back on her driving as the light turned green which took her mind off a great deal.

There was a heightened awareness she felt, a blooming of details from everything around her that centered her mind. While this car was all but a literal island of luxury, details from the outside were slipping through. The suspension was soft enough to glide over every bump and pothole in the road and yet she could still feel them, smoothed out as they were. The road noise, which should've been near impossible to sense, droned in her ears quite clearly. When she turned the radio on, she'd had turned the volume down low because it just seemed that little bit too loud.

Telling where cars were before changing lanes, noticing motorbikes in between the cars, even being able to feel the rising speed of the car and just being able to tell how fast she was going before she glanced at the speedometer, it was as if she'd been driving all her life instead of this being one of the few times she'd put her license to use.

One reason she didn't drive was because traffic made her nervous. It was difficult to focus when you were on edge because someone was riding your back bumper like they were glued to it. A nervous feeling was absent during her drive, no matter who honked or rolled in far to close at a light or sped by on a bike, she barely felt anything more than a slight bit of exasperation at the rudeness of one driver who flipped her off when she didn't immediately peel out at a particular light.

Her composure remained as they hit the freeway and quickly made distance between the city and them. It was only when the environment outside began exchanging urban buildings for more bushes and flat green scenery that Inko pulled off the road to an exit for a break.

It was about an hour and a half in but she nor Izuku had eaten breakfast that morning, so a quick rest was needed.

Parking at the first convenience store she saw, at first she'd bought just two sandwiches for them to snack on while stretching their legs. However, like when they first got out of the hospital the snack turned into a meal. She bought out nearly a quarter of the store before the edge was taken off their hunger.

Every sandwich, burger, and steamed bun was eaten in their impromptu picnic near the car. Finishing it all off with a sweet Onigiri for her and a jelly doughnut for Izuku before they continued on.

That was another thing to be addressed later, Inko knew as the pulled the car back onto the freeway. This increased appetite would become a financial problem later on. She'd never been able to eat like that before in her life, not when she was a teenager and not at her current 27. And Izuku, growing boy or not, really had no excuse for putting just as much down. Considering the idea, would've made her nauseous last week. Neither of them should've been able to attempt to do so, and yet they did it.

And had left room for desert, this time around.

Her son's question came a little more than an hour or so after their meal, just as she was exiting the highway that took them out of the city proper and onto the back mountain route, she was all to familiar with.

"What's she like?"

"Izumi Midoriya..." Inko didn't really need to think long to answer. "She's nice. Strong. Motherly like me." 'Motherly' was far to light a word for the woman who raised her but simple was good for now.

"She's like you?" Again, that tinge of awe in his voice. "Did you live with her?"

"Yes. I lived with her in a big house and played on land behind it when I was a little older than you."

"Behind it? Like a backyard?"

"The biggest one you've ever seen. The biggest in all of Japan. With a garden where she grows her own food." Again, she was practically trivializing the facts. Her grandmother had a backyard like Izuku had a _slight _interest in Superheroes and All Might in particular. True but far more to be told. If Inko ever met anyone who thought of 60 full acres of land as a backyard, she be shocked. Her grandmother had come into a lot of money decades before Inko had been born and used the money to build a house and buy the land around it.

Focusing back on the near bone-white asphalt as the incline began, she was reminded that once it had been pale gray so long ago and like catching the whiff of a favorite childhood dish, remembering the color also led to the last time she'd seen the road in this direction.

It had been after things had gone bad.

The road had been a pale yellow that night, illuminated by a pair of headlights so bright that in any other situation, she might have looked for familiar shapes as they past. But she hadn't, her eyes hurt from crying so long and so hard and her vision was still a little blurry anyway. It was awful because she could've used the distraction from the other pains she was feeling. The road wasn't smooth and it seemed like every bump in it went right from the wheels to the backseat to everything that hurt...and it seemed like everything had been hurting

Inko blinked, coming back to her present and rubbed her eyes clear of the tears building there. Thankfully, enthralled by the idea of 'The biggest Backyard in Japan' began rapid firing questions that not only had her bringing up the good memories but got so detailed that she had to think hard and dig deep on them. Hard enough that it kept her distracted for the rest of the trip.

Izuku's questions were not a bottomless well and the car eventually lapsed into silence, right around the time they reached to outskirts of town.

As she turned the last bend, Inko was struck by a sense of nostalgia upon seeing The Crossroads, which she certainly hadn't seen for awhile, not even when she'd come for a visit over two years ago.

The Crossroads were just a nickname that she and the other children had given the spot years ago. In actuality, the single road crossed nothing but split into three distinct directions.

One continued straight ahead, passing the town she'd grown up in completely and continued to go down the other side of the mountain. The left fork went further up and led straight into town. To the right, the road curved down in such a way that it was impossible to see what was on the other side from the road. However, she knew that it lead to a dead end not but a fifty yards from the crest, the isolated spot having served as a private playground away from adult eyes.

Turning left, she wondered if children in town were still using that road to gather. Driving through town was a trip down memory lane and she for the first time, felt like everything was finally okay. So many good times were tied to this place that just seeing it again had been like wrapping up in a warm blanket. She'd even go so far as to call it a salve to her soul.

One thing that stuck out in her cursory scan as they passed by was the General Store. Run by Mr. Riku and his wife, both had to be getting up there in age like her grandmother now that she thought about it, Inko couldn't help but notice it was closed. Unusual for that time of day, especially since their joint-candy store right next door was clearly open.

Inko made a note to stop by and say hello before they left. Hopefully, they'd remember a little girl who'd spent far too much of her hard earned money from chores on junk like Pocky and Botan.

"Wow." Izuku said, awed as he craned his neck to see further ahead.

"Yep." Inko confirmed. "That's it up ahead."

They were about a mile and a half out of town when her grandmother's house came into sight. The trees parting like a curtain to reveal the house, almost a mansion, in the distance.

It was a grand construction that was quite breathtaking from a distance which grew more so as they got closer. If memory served, her grandmother had said the style was 'Queen Anne' Victorian. Whatever style it was, it was an very loud one.

The woman had once joked that she should've been born European, she was so obsessed with Western culture. It was an obsessing that shined through, announced through every brick and beam of that house she'd built. In all honesty, Inko had always thought it a bit garish though she'd seen the place as a fantasy castle on the hill when she was a child. Even as she looked at it now, she couldn't shake off the sense that the house, it's owner, and the land around it was meant more for a fairy tale book. Something that Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty used as vacation homes, not a widowed retiree's residence in the mountainous Japanese countryside.

It was a building that was bursting with decor, from the green paint on the wood, the dusty pink of the bricks, and the intricate carved roof finials and cresting which Inko had lost hours staring at over the years, it was a home that not only stood out in its surroundings and, specifically one's memory as it was not a place easily forgotten.

Inko pulled off the road and onto the long gravel drive which, once it reached the house, curved in on itself to make a circle so that someone could simply stop their car in front of it and not be further than a stride from the porch steps and then pull away to go right back down the drive without having to do a three-point turn.

Standing there, framed by the pearl white front door ready to greet them, was her grandmother, Izumi Midoriya.

The first thing Inko noted as she parked was how unbowed she was. Her back was straight and she stood tall and welcoming in defiance of her age. She had no idea if the hand of time was treating her grandmother exceptionally gently or if it was something in her lifestyle but for a woman pushing the better part of seventy, Izumi looked remarkably well. A fact exemplified by her clothing, or rather how well they fit her.

Dressed in a pair of denim pants and a blue long sleeved blouse, they hugged close to her body and pretty much told Inko that Izumi still took good care of herself and hadn't slipped in her habits since she'd last seen her. Now that she thought about it, her grandmother always had a spryness that gave her the air of women half her age.

Her short hair, tied in a tight bun still had a few strands of green among the silver and her face, weathered but not worn, brightened as Inko got out the car and opened the door for her son.

She didn't say anything at first. Grabbing and pulling her into a tight hug, she only spoke then. "I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice was equal parts relieved and happy and even though the embrace pressed into her wound, Inko hugged her back before stepping away.

"It's good to see you, too."

"And this," Izumi gasped, bending at the knees for a better look, "must be Izuku! Come, let me get a good look at you."

Inko only noticed then that her son had tucked himself behind her legs, his previous excitement gone and his tail twitching in what she could tell was nervousness.

However, when she looked back to her grandmother, she recognized the mischievous gleam in the woman's eyes and, smiling herself, she quickly stepped aside. "Come now, I won't..."

"BITE!" Izuku barely had a chance to squeak before Izumi pounced. Both hands shooting out, she caught her great-grandson under the armpits and started tickling.

The four year old squealed, trying to get away but Izumi, refusing to be denied her due, swept him off his feet and into the crook of her arm.

Arms flailing, legs kicking, Izuku was helpless against the assault on his belly, sides, and neck as she went for every weak spot she could. Izuku would cover one, only for the experienced woman to go for another and Inko couldn't help but be impressed that she still had the strength to hold him in place.

It wasn't for very long though. The tickling finally stopped a few seconds later and Izuku, face flushed from so much laughing, wrapped his arms around her grandmother's neck.

"Okay." Izumi huffed, apparently equally worn from the effort "I'm gonna have to put you down now. You're already too big for me." Lowering him to the porch, she gave his nose a gentle pinch. "Why if I didn't know any better I'd say you're almost an adult."

The complement made Izuku flush a little brighter as Inko mussed her sons hair. "Not quite though, you have some growing to do, young man."

"Mommy!" He said, trying to shoo away her hand, clearly embarrassed.

Her grandmother and her shared a laugh as they walked inside.

"I knew you two would be hungry, so I spent all day cooking," she announced, kicking off her shoes before stepping onto the wood floor of the foyer. "And don't tell me you're not hungry." Leading her son by the hand, Inko followed her grandmother who was already speeding down the hall, past the living room and towards...the dining room, if she was right.

She took her time, taking off her shoes and following at a sedate pace. Mostly for Izuku as her little boy's head seemed to be on a swivel as he looked around with wide eyes at the pictures and antiques lining the wall, clearly trying to take in as much as he could. She giggled at that, since apparently Izuku forgot they were here for a whole weekend. The other reason she took, her time was...well, her grandmother was more right that she suspected. Their breakfast might as well have been yesterday's memory, her stomach was already doing the mental equivalent of tugging on her sleeve for attention.

She went for her pocket, halfway through pulling out a cellphone she no longer had, and then once she realized what she was doing, checked her wristwatch instead.

11:39. Almost lunch.

With her son and her's new appetite, she knew for a fact that even her grandmother's prodigious portion sizes were going to be more a snack than a meal but they should eat something and she could explain to her grandmother later.

"You grew up here?" The awe was back and as Inko looked to her son, she could see a shine in his green eyes as if he'd been told his mother had come from royalty and only now was having it confirmed.

"Yes, I did. In fact, my-" She was cut off as Izumi's voice, warm but stern. Her 'You're lollygagging and it will stop now' voice.

"Child, you better get in here. I didn't work my hands to the bone and sweat in front of a stove for this to get cold."

"I'll tell you later. Let's eat first." Inko said, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Her son must have been peckish too, since at the mention of food, he forgot his fascination with the house and was hot on her heels.

XXX

"Grandma..." Inko's voice faded into stunned silence. Her son's eyes again wide in shock but now edged in a bit of eager joy.

They'd stopped just before the sill of the open dinning room. Much like the house, it was huge western ideal of what a family gathering place was. A big room lined by large windows with a sliding glass door that faced west and lead out onto the porch and into the backyard. The massive solid wood dining table took up the entire middle space of the room, long enough to sit sixteen people with 8 on each side and wide enough for two people to sit on either end if they didn't mind sharing elbow room, that wasn't what had Inko struggling to find words to say. She'd lived here once, knew the table well. In fact, she even remembered the spot where she'd accidentally scratched the wood hard enough to leave a mark with her knife.

Although, finding it now would be a challenge considering that the table in question looked ready to fold under the weight of the food placed upon it.

Before them was a staggering number of dishes in exceedingly staggering amounts. Each main dish looked more like it was meant for a buffet than for any setting in a house. Even the side dishes were massive. The rice had so much prepared that it alone could've fed an entire family.

Not an inch of space was wasted or lacked something, the only spots left vacant were where three chairs sat scooted back from the table to give it's would be occupant space between itself and the table to sit.

"I..uh." With an effort Inko wrangled her tongue and looked and her grandmother, as bug-eyed as her son."H-how? Where did all this come from?"

"Where did it come from?"Izumi echoed, frowning as if she'd just been asked the dumbest question she'd ever heard in her life. Standing next to a chair at the head of the massive table, she put her fists to her hips, an expression on her face that, for a brief moment, made Inko actually think her question indeed was as stupid as her grandmother thought.

"Where do you think, Child? From my kitchen."

Inko shook her head, refusing to be put off. No warning of 'Cooking all day' explained the All-You-Can-Eat spread she was looking at.

"You cooked?" Inko stated flatly, pointing at her grandmother, who's knowing grin had come back but now focused on her.

"All of this food, by yourself?" Using both hands, she gestured at the table in a motion that said 'Look at what I'm seeing here.'

A nod.

"In one day? As in today?"

Inko put a great deal of emphasis in that last word and apparently that was just the thing she needed to get the impossibility of such a task through to her grandmother.

Izumi's smile left her face, eyes widening slightly before she shook her head. "Oh no. No. No. Dear me, Inko." She said with a laugh that rang through the room like a bell. "All day is just a turn of phrase, Child. You mustn't take things so literally."

Inko hardly thought that was fair and as she approached the table, she said as much. "Its not like you told enough for me not to take you completely at your word. I have to assume you meant exactly what you said."

That got her another laugh.

_Guess I'm a comedian today._

You know what they say about assumption. They make an a-" Her grandmother stopped, laughter dwindling to chuckles when she glanced down at Izuku, then back up to Inko and gave a conspiratorial wink. "Well, you know what they say."

For Inko's part, she gave a nod of gratitude and then turned to the food, breathing in deep. That single whiff almost had her falling upon the meal like a wild animal right then,

Smells of clean steamed vegetables mixed in her nose with hearty fatty meats. Fresh bread and sliced fruit combined with dishes of strong spiced curry and the tang of smoked sausage.

It stirred her appetite from an attention seeker to a near primal singular need to be satisfied.

Remembering herself, Inko seated Izuku first who was openly drooling and she couldn't find it in herself to reprimand him on his poor show of manners. Sitting down, she focused back on Izumi, who was just about in her chair. "So who helped you?"

Her question got a raised eyebrow. "No one, Inko. All done by these." She raised her hands and waggled her fingers in a surprising display of dexterity.

Now, she was confused again. "Then how did you cook all this?" The only explanation she could think of was that her grandmother had planned for more company ahead of time, but it had been made quite clear that this food was for her son and her. Leaving out that Inko knew Izumi Midoriya had never been one for parties.

Since the party idea wasn't likely, then this meal should've been impossible. This visit was spur of the moment, an emotional decision to close out one of the most emotional weeks in her life. Coming here was meant to unwind both physically and emotionally.

In short, unless Izumi could see into the future, she'd need to have a fair warning to prepare this much, especially at her age.

Her grandmother clicked her tongue, picking up the empty plate in front of her and a pair of tongs that had been between the rice and spare ribs. "I started cooking the moment, I hung up the phone." She answered.

If it hadn't been for the armrests, Inko would've fallen out of her chair. "What?"

"It gets lonely for this old woman way out here. Not to mention boring. So I went a little overboard, I'll admit." She finished with a wave of her tongs, as if shooing away the idea that all this being cooked in such a short time was any big idea. "Indulge your grandmother's want to provide for her granddaughter ."

_Overboard, she says._

Inko had to wonder her a dictionary somewhere in the world had just cracked into pieces under the strain of such a massive understatement.

She was yanked out of her contemplation by the sound of chewing beside her. Izuku's patience had run on and even her grandmother had started plating some food in the brief pause.

With a sigh of surrender, Inko began picking out what looked best from the table.

She'd planned on questioning her grandmother further after lunch but all it took was once bite of the still hot bread rolls and the lingering subject of how the food get here fled before the ravenous craving to eat as much of it as she could.

Though it did stick out even in her preoccupied brain just how normally her grandmother treated the whole meal. Not a look of shock, quirked eyebrow, or even a comment as she and her son tore into everything before them. Stripping every bone clean and clearing every platter like locusts to an unprotected field of wheat.

With her attention on her grandmother, she also managed to notice that she'd eaten quite a bit as well. Not as much as her but still, she'd put down two fairly full plates within the time they'd finished eating.

It was Izuku who announced the end of the meal. He leaned back in the chair, contented smile on his face and a deep sigh. "That was great. I'm full." Inko, while agreeing that indeed the food had been wonderful as Izumi was a great cook, couldn't help the smirk at the irony that there was nothing more to eat. The table, once a picturesque sumptuous smorgasbord, now lay heavy with empty plates, bowls, platters, and glasses.

For her part, her full belly had lifted a weight from her, a prickling that she had only realized now followed her out of the hospital as well. It was enough to dishearten her. She'd known the need for food was going to hit her hard financially but if it took eating this much then...Well, buying in bulk was an option but even that was more of a stop gap than anything long term. Could Hisashi even support them with just his paycheck… That question put a sour taste in her mouth that certainly hadn't been there before. Of course he could. An expensive car that he barely used kept in an expensive garage for the elite with insurance and everything else. And if he somehow couldn't, then she…

"What are you doing, child?" Inko jerked and realized with a jolt she was on her feet, hands gathering up the plates and silverware.

Her answer was instant. "Going to wash the dishes."

It wasn't a lie.

Her habit, one her grandmother instilled over the years she'd lived with her, was to clean after every meal. Dirty plates were hard to clean if the mess on them was left to dry and apparently even with her mind wandering out afield in her own world of worry and frustration, her body followed what was comfortable for her. Familiar was comfortable. That's why she was here, after all.

"Oh, please. We can take care of that later." Izumi motioned for her to put the stuff down. "Right now, I want to talk to you, Inko."

With that, her grandmother stood up as well and looked to her son. "Izuku," she said, getting the four year old's attention. "after you rest for a bit, why don't you go play outside? I'm sure you'd like the forests around here just as much as your mother."

"But, don't go very far." Inko cut in with a warning. She knew the forest well enough. Where the dead-end road had been the town's private playground, the forests here had been hers. Every trip in there had been an adventure with tall trees to climb, creeks to splash in, and interesting rocks and bugs to find. "There are wild animals out there."

Her son's eyes grew wide, though not in fear. There was almost an anticipation to his look as if he wanted to see what kind of wild animals there were. She wasn't sure why but it was unsettling enough that her first instinct was to go with him. A tiny pit twirling around in her stomach made her not want to leave his side, just in case he did run into something out there. Yeah, the more she thought about it, the more she felt she should be out there. Any beast that dared to try and lay a claw or tooth or paw on her son, would soon find themselves dealing with her. And she'd be more vicious than any-

"Yes, your mother is right." Izumi nodded sagely, her voice snapping Inko back to attention. "Up to a certain point is a wire fence that keeps dangerous animals out. There is a tall pole with a red flag on it that marks where the safe zone ends. Wild animals are past it, so if you see it, go no further."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her grandmother smiled even wider and ruffled his hair. "Such a polite boy." Izuku blushed slightly, freckles standing out on his cheeks and giggled.

Inko followed her mother out the room, hesitating halfway down the hall when she heard the sliding glass door open and shut.

Izumi, noticing she'd stopped after a few more steps, turned to her and beckoned for her to follow. "He'll be fine, dear. I had the fencing upgraded last month and a couple of inspectors checked the property within to make sure we didn't have some uninvited guests lurking around. Such young strapping men, too." She put a hand to her mouth in a vixenish way that was so fake Inko had to laugh at the act.

"Oh, if I was just a few decades younger." The lament was uttered with a sigh, with Izumi gazing off into space with a love-struck pout that was so out of place on her face that Inko laughed harder, just managing not to bend double and followed after her.

She knew where they were going right away. Located on the north side at the end of the hall was the biggest room in the building, the study which as they entered, she could tell it hadn't changed. Save for the new desk and the computer that was tucked in the left corner, taking up the final bit of vacant space along the walls. "Still dark as ever, I see." She observed, looking around.

With each wall lined with near ceiling high bookshelves including two which covered the only windows in the room, the place was cast in shadows that were barely held off from the light coming from the hall and a series 4 of lamps, placed in strategic spots around. The only lamp that caught her attention was the one on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.

She walked closer towards it to get a better look. Next to the lamp which was on the far end were a row of pictures in variously sized frames. These hadn't changed either. The first one was of a much younger looking Izumi Midoriya in a school uniform. Smiling and with a black tube in her hand, she was posing in front of a school's grounds with a group of other girls, all of whom were smiling as well with a tube in their hand. Yet even if Inko would've somehow not been able to distinguish Izumi's face which was impossible, the girl in the photo stood out.

A lot.

Out of all five girls who were doing some silly pose or had their head turned in some way, waving to the camera or the person behind it with peace signs, she was the only one who stood straight. Ramrod stiff, a statue standing proud among everyone else, her presence and propriety oozed through the frame.

The picture next to it was a different story altogether. Her grandmother, now a totally mature woman, wasn't standing. Instead, clothed in a stunning white gown was being carried bridal style in the arms of a large man with sharp features in a black suit. Or was it a tux? Inko could never tell the difference and she could tell that the distinction wouldn't have mattered to either. The picture had been snapped while they were both in mid-laugh and the joy on her face made the high school one look like she'd been grumpy during her graduation. Inko could feel it, she'd felt it when she'd gotten married. A twinge of sadness curled in her chest as she looked at the man, her grandfather, smile glowing and softening what would've been a hard countenance. Inko had never gotten the chance to know him but the stories Izumi told her painted a picture of dutiful, gentle soul who'd sooner kill you with kindness as hit you square in the jaw if you pressed his buttons long enough. And you really had to press them.

He'd died long before she'd been born and she'd never asked her grandmother how. She continued down the row but stopped at one that had been placed face down on the mantle, hiding the picture inside from sight. Inko didn't lift it up to see, she knew what it was of and as she inspected it, a gratified ease at the thick layer of dust on its back made her smile.

"Come and sit, child."

A massive carpet covered the wooden floor a safe distance away from the fireplace, upon which sat two well used linen armchairs with a small circular table between them. An electric kettle shared space with an antique lamp and two blue china teacups and saucers.

"Now," Izumi sat down in the left chair, knees together and facing her as she took the much less worn right one. "How are you doing, Inko?"

She was in the middle of opening her mouth but whatever she'd planned to say was halted by her grandmother's raised hand. Actually, that wasn't quite right. The hand had been little more than a twist of her wrist. What did make Inko pause was the change that had taken Izumi Midoriya's face. There was concern there but it was mixed with a hardness in the eyes that Inko had only seen once before, and she quickly averted her eyes.

Her desire to unload everything that had been on her mind warred with just wanting to keep it to herself, to talk about something other than about her. The weather... heroes... did Takumi; that drummer in town, ever get a break with the band of his? Some idle chatting like she was used to. Her leg tingled and her back throbbed like a nasty memory.

She wanted… _needed something_ familiar. Too much had happened and too much had changed far too fast. Her apartment was too crowded, her husband was too distant, her body had become anomalous, she'd even grown a tail. A secondary quirk that she'd never known she had.

Inko chewed on her lip, having all this time to think and having no clue where to start. Her grandmother waited patiently while when she managed to compact all her thoughts down into into a single sentence. "I don't know."

Those three words were so factual that Inko was initially embarrassed that it had taken her so long to say them. She had no clue how she was doing and thinking back to every conversation and thought between waking up and getting here, she wasn't sure if she ever would.

"In this one week, I've been hurt, nearly killed, could've lost Izuku and got a lesson in embarrassment and shame so thorough that I'd probably be able to teach a course on it at Todai," she pushed forward, more words coming to mind as she simply let herself speak. Still not quite able to look straight at her grandmother, her eyes swept along the shelves around her. This place was almost like a university's library. "But above all that, I'm angry. I'm so angry and I just want to..." A reluctant urge edged it's way to the front of her mind and it was only then that she recognized she'd been clenching her hands together so hard her knuckles were turning white. She didn't want to say it out loud, like if it was addressed the thing she was pushing back would leap out like a living creature. The urge wanted action, movement even. For her to DO something, anything.

"I guessed as much." Izumi's tone was equal parts sad and resigned. As if she'd expected as much. It was enough to make Inko finally look at her.

Now her grandmother wasn't looking at her. She was looking away towards a shelf and the emotion in her eyes confused Inko more than anything else. With a sigh, she stood up and moved to the bookshelf she'd been focused on. "Inko, I'd hoped to never had this conversation and in that I failed myself and I failed you and Izuku."

Her confusion only deepened but Izumi continued before she could ask what she was talking about. "I thought it would be best to keep it from you. You were living a safe and happy life and I thought the burden of our family curse had ended at… well, myself." Pulling a book out of a line of unmarked ones, Izumi's hand trembled slightly as if the novel-sized book weighed a great deal. Slowly, with a gaze akin to a judge about to deliver a sentence, she turned and looked at her. A building silence grew between them and Inko was sure that if her grandmother looked at her any harder the floor between them would catch fire.

When she did finally speak, her voice had such a melancholic tone as if she was just a step away from tears.

"Inko. You, your son, and I, are not totally human."

XXX

A cheer split the air. It was a whoop of such joy and childish glee that it managed to drown out the cicadas whirring around. The air was thick with the sent of moist grass and the air pulled even more fresh scents of the forest into his nose as her rushed around.

Izuku being the shouts source didn't notice nor care as any skittish animals nearby fled at his announced approach. The boy's legs pumped hard as he crashed through the brush and weaved in between trees. This was the most fun he'd ever had.

Well… not as fun as playing All Might with mom but it was very_ very_ close.

He thought for a moment if they could play that again when he got back to the house. He barely began wondering if they could get Great-Grandma in on it then he saw a low branch on a tall tree. All thoughts flew and left just action.

He leaped for it_._

For an average adult, it wasn't that high, barely a struggle to reach but Izuku wasn't an adult.

Normally, he would've bounced and hopped as hard as he could, missed and probably crashed to the ground or into another tree.

'Normally' no longer applied.

His jump carried him up and his arms reached, hands grasping. Catching it, he gripped so that he could swing up but his fingers tightened so hard that the branch crumpled with a few woody pops. The energy left over from his sprint did the rest and halfway through his swing, the limb snapped.

He was sent into a spin, falling towards the ground which came to a stop with a sharp tug from the base of his back. Held in the air and upside down, he got a perfect view of his tail hooked tight around a higher, shorter, but much thicker branch.

His tail had caught him! That hadn't happened before, not even when he was showing off for Kaachan.

The boy giggled, giddy with excitement. It only took him two tries to pull himself up and from there, again without a second thought, began climbing up the trunk.

His little heart pounded in his chest. Not from fear but excitement. A rush ran through him like nothing he'd ever felt before. Injury and, what would be to anyone, the concerning and still growing height between him and the ground were the furthest things from his mind. His smile only grew as he ran out of handholds near the top.

Crouched on a limb, he looked around. To his right was a tree about as tall as the one he was on _but_ the one after that had a trunk thicker and taller than either. In fact, it looked like if he climbed to the top of that one he would be able to see everything.

However, he could tell just by looking at it that there was no way he was going to make a single jump to that one. So, sighted on his goal, he aimed for the strongest looking branch on the tree between with a moment to bend just the right way to get the most out of his spring and went for it.

Catching by his tail, he made one full twirl around the tree limb and vaulted for his target. He was only as he'd already let go and was too far away grab for anything when he recognized the spot he aimed for had nothing to grab.

A wall of solid bark was coming to meet him.

Instinct took over and he spread his arms out wide as if going in for a hug and, on the moment of impact, _dug_ his fingers in with every bit of strength he could manage. A series of pops followed the sensation of rough wood around his hands and then the pressure of his own body weight.

That had been close.

Breathing hard, smile a little less wider than it had been a moment before, he hung in place and looked around the best he could. Just out of reach, up and to the left, was a branch he knew would hold. He made for it or tried to. His shoes dragged along the surface for a push but got the sound of crumbling and snapping bark for his effort. Even his tail waved frantically as Izuku's sweaty hands began to slip out of their holes. He couldn't risk letting go to reach.

Gravity was trying its best to pull him down, his fingers were starting to ache and in frustration he kicked the tree.

The impact was enough to bounce him off his hold… high enough to put that limb just within his grasp.

He reached as far as his arm would go and caught it in one hand, then the other. He quickly scrambled up and wrapped his legs around it as hard as he dared. Sweat streamed down his face and his breaths were hard and fast but after an extra long moment to rest after all his hard work, he looked back up the tree and, carefully this time, picked his next spot and continued up.

And up.

...and up...

XXX

Inko waited for the punchline and when none came, searched for that hint of humor that showed when her grandmother about to spring a joke. Nothing of the sort revealed itself, only a look of such grim seriousness that it actually make her shy into her chair. Izumi was only slightly taller than her, yet even from across the room, her whole presence loomed. The study remained hushed. A grandfather clock somewhere in the building ticked away, it's inner workings a hammer to the silence filling the air to every last crack of space.

She blinked and for the first time in her life, worried. Maybe all this time alone, near the forests had affected her grandmother. God forbid, that age was having its much more silent, much more awful, way with Izumi and as terrible as that was to consider, as much as it hurt her heart to think it, there was no other way she could reason to herself why her grandmother would say something so absurd and mean it.

"What are you talking about?" she finally responded, leaning forward to hear her grandmother better. Surely she hadn't heard that right.

Izumi crossed back to her chair in two quick strides and lowered into it with a fluid grace that made Inko blink again. Before when her grandmother had walked around, her movements had been smooth but with a slow methodical care as if to be sure of what she was doing before being committed. Her walk firm to make sure her feet were stable, her sitting aimed right at the center so as to not bump her hips or place herself on the edge of the chair. Yet just then, her care left as if it had never been, replaced with a confidence and poise that Inko had never seen from her before.

Ever.

"I'm talking about that tail and what it signifies. What it means for your future." Flipping through the book, Izumi's answer came with no preamble to the build up. She spoke plainly with a certainty that made it clear to Inko that she was far from addled. "We aren't completely human, at least my side of the family isn't. And just in case you're thinking of asking, no, I don't know what we are. Our family has been researching this for generations, longer than you or I or even _my great-grandfather_, and even with modern science none have been able to agree if its genetic mutation, something supernatural, some unique evolution, or just straight up magic."

"Oh lord, you're serious." Inko hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to be rude, but the words slipped off her tongue as if they'd been greased.

If Izumi took insult though, she didn't show it. Instead, she nodded opening the leather book that Inko now realized was much thicker than she'd originally thought. "I said something to that effect, when my father told me. Mind you, I was a child when he did so and if a child thinks you're fibbing than how can an adult accept such a fairy tale as gospel? And I would still not have believed him, if quirks hadn't suddenly appeared on the scene."

Inko frowned at that last remark, quickly doing some numbers in her head. "Grandma, you do know that was twenty years before your time, at least."

The amusement came back to Izumi's eyes and for a moment she thought there was about to be a 'I had you going for a moment, didn't I?' out of her mouth. Instead, she asked. "Inko, how old do you think I am?"

That was an odd question. "Seventy…sixty-eig-" Her mouth shut with a click. She knew her grandmother's birthday, certainly but she was coming to realized that she actually didn't know Izumi's age. "You've told me before, right?"

"I have and I was lying. Mostly for the same reason I didn't want to tell you about our family's checkered past." Her grandmother's admission of lying hit her harder like a slap across the face. The shock at those words would've been total to Inko but like a boxer taking a viscous combo, her brain was already reeling and so didn't have time to prepare for the follow up. "I'm actually one-hundred and twelve years old. My twelfth birthday had been less than a two weeks away when that historic case in China happened. Oh, the Chinese government tried to hide it, I'm sure, but no political body has the power to hide something like that unless they're prepared for it."

Inko sunk into the chair, its overstuffed cushions doing nothing to help with the pressure suddenly weighing her down. "That's… th-that's…"

"Impossible." Her grandmother finished for her, pulling out a folded worn rectangle of paper from between the pages of the book. "Yes, I'm sure most would say that. But here." The paper was passed over and Inko numbly took it, her fingers moving pretty much on autopilot to unfold it and it took a full minute of staring before she understood what was in her hands. An icy chasm opened in her stomach at the date on the page.

When it did, she gaped back at her grandmother. This couldn't be fake, but it had to be. "Your birth certificate?"

A sardonic smiled touched the woman's lips. "Got it for my birthday."

Inko's hands trembled as she passed it back. 112...the woman who'd raised her, the grandmother she thought she'd known better than her own parents, was more than a century old. Izumi would've looked great for a seventy year old woman. For someone more than a decade past their centennial, her looks were unnatural. There was no plastic surgeon that good, no quirk that could hold back someone's age, no amount of good food and good air that could do this.

"However, this isn't so much my proof." Her grandmother, her over a hundred year old grandmother, picked the certificate between two fingers, folded, then tucked it back between the pages of the book. "This is me making my case, the proof is in you, Child."

For the first time in her life, Inko flinched at her nickname. Izumi's moniker for her now felt...patronizing and deceitful. So many questions marched through her head, all trying to force their way out like a mob rushing a single exit. Her grandmother's statement made a path for one though. "What do you mean?"

"I'm sure you've noticed by now, Inko. Your reaction to my question said as much."

"Noticed what?"

"Don't avoid the subject, Inko. You may be an adult but I can still read you like a book."

The confusion, what was turning out to be a constant state for her now, must've shown because Izumi, patiently continued. "I saw the look in your eye in the dining room, Inko. Izuku didn't but I did. Tell me, did you want to go out there with Izuku?"

Inko nodded, slowly coming back to herself. Her brain, no longer dazed from surprise after surprise, finally changed into gear, "Yes, of course. There were possible animals out there."

"And what would you have done if your son and you had happened across a dangerous wolf, lets say?"

"I would've fought it to give Izuku time to escape." She wouldn't allow anything, much less an overgrown dog, get near her son if there was anything she could do about it.

"Would you have done that a week ago? Fought the wolf, I mean?"

"Yes. With my bare hands if I had to." She answered through clenched teeth, muscles in her jaw tight and fingers twitching for something to hold. To grab. To _tear._

"That's funny," her grandmother said, looking back to the open book and rubbing her chin in thought. "because you didn't mention anything like scaring it off or backing away or equipping yourself with some kind of repellent or even a knife. Not even picking up a heavy stick, just fight it with you bare hands." Izumi focused on her as if viewing her through a scope with her next question. "Does that sound like something you _ever _would have done, Inko? You? Who wanted to be a housewife? The woman I remember leaving this house when she graduated, didn't so much as tell off her own school bullies but now your first solution to fend off a wolf is using your hands?"

Inko was about to point out that it was only if her son was in danger, yet the sentence died before she'd breathed in to say it, gazing off into space. Back at the robbery she'd run, fully planning to escape. Just thinking about it, made her shoulder sting. _Looking at it now, would I have run?_

The idea she had to even ask herself such a fundamental thing was enough to form knots in her belly and ice on her skin. Worse, she couldn't answer the very question she'd posed and the agitation left her like a deflating balloon.

Dread flowed through her thoughts, sliding over where confidence had been like oil and she looked to her grandmother who now was looking solemn again, all traces of humor gone. The book placed on the table between them.

"It's as clear to me as the sun is on a cloudless day. It's in your eyes. It's in Izuku's, though for him, he's expressing this more as wanting to play around. For you, child, I bet before this conversation is over, you'll be near to exploding out that chair." She began, indicating the seat with nod. "You'll be itching to climb a tree or run. Like a pot ready to boil over, you'll feel ready to run half way across the world. Maybe a quarter if you didn't sleep well last night. I can tell you now, it won't help. I wasn't being dramatic when I said it was a curse. While I can't trace our family line back further than the late 1800s, I guarantee what you're feeling has cost some of them their lives."

Even though Inko knew the feeling, the odd sensation that had followed moments when she'd gotten angry, it was only when her grandmother said it that she truly had the words for it.

"The desire for battle, Inko. That's what those tails mean. 'Destruction and feral savagery,' I think one ancestor wrote. It's one reason why all the other branches of this tree are gone now, pruned by the rush to war or a duel or even some bar fight that has gotten plenty of them killed." Izumi stated, her voice touching an edge that Inko would only recognize later as a sob. "This is why I beg your forgiveness." Staring into her lap, hands clasped she turned to her grandmother. Unable to speak, she stared as her grandmother cupped her face in her hands, clearly ashamed. "My empty hopes for this never to happen doesn't excuse the fact that I could've gotten you and your son killed."

If Inko wasn't already feeling like she was lost out to sea, she'd have been swept away by that statement. As it was she stood, more unfolding from the chair than rising out of it, and her grandmother jumped slightly as if expecting some violent reaction. Indeed, Inko didn't know what to do. Emotions warred in her mind, crowding her thoughts until it felt that no words nor any amount of them would ever be enough. Even standing, staring blankly off into space was an effort to decide. What could she do?

Scream? Cry? Call the woman who raised her after the hell of her early childhood a liar and stomp out like an immature child?

For a many hard ticks of the grandfather clock, she was a living statue. Not moving, not sure if she was breathing and finally, said the only thing she could. "I need a moment. To think. And some space. To think."

Without waiting for an answer, she spun and left the study. However, the hall wasn't enough space. Her old home felt even tighter than her apartment, too much stuff on the walls and not enough open air. She continued to the front, throwing open the door and stepping out onto the porch, the Toyota Century still parked a few feet from the steps, it's polished paint and chrome gleaming in the midday sun.

Still, it wasn't enough. The house had a physical almost unnatural presence at her back, like it was going to fall upon her. She didn't look back to it as she marched past the car and onto the drive. With how her week was going, she'd only be mildly peeved if she turned around to see the house teetering like a stack of papers near an open window. She didn't so much a glance over her shoulder as she continued down the drive, gravel crunching with each step. There was too much to think about and if she had to listen to anymore of that… that… what even _was_ that? Crazy, was what it was. Her grandmother had totally lost her mind, that explained it all. Extra insanity to top off the several helpings of it she'd gotten back in the city and there STILL wasn't enough space.

Picking her pace up to a jog, she passed from the gravel and only paused long enough to take the direction away from town, and continued down the road. The muscles in her jaw worked as she thought, not even realizing face now had a determined glare. In fact, if this was true, how had no one found out about it? A family with monkey tails popping up would make news no matter what century it was. She'd have known about them, an old cousin or a grand-aunt or someone! Hell, this was something even _he_ would have mentioned.

Oh great, now she was thinking of that man. A growl rolled from her lips and she picked up the pace even more. Still wasn't far enough. She didn't even want to see the trees around the house. The asphalt ahead of her passed by, the summer heat waves making the furthest point in the road seem ethereal and unreal. As if, when one reached it, they'd come to the end of reality itself. Inko was ready to take that challenge. Her pace rose, the wild storm of her thoughts the only opposition. The road was clear, a country lane on the weekend was sure to be lacking cars for miles and at that she moved from the side to the center of the road. Her run increasing to a full on sprint along the white line. Each step devoured the distance before her, one foot tramped in front of the other, arms working back and forth like a steam locomotive and eye glaring ahead but not quite seeing.

Quite literally running on autopilot, Inko ran for that insubstantial finish line, some illogical place in her brain telling her that if she could reach it then the world would suddenly be sane again. That her grandmother's story wasn't true. That a murderous criminal was already in jail. That Hisashi was here with her and not...who knew where. That the robbery had not ever happened, she'd bought that ice cream pop for Izuku, and left. She had sense enough to know she had much chance of making it to that haze as she did not having this week happen, but damn if she didn't try.

XXX

"Wow." Izuku could see the whole world from here, her was certain. He stood bent low, heels flat and body crouched on the thickest and tallest branch of the tallest tree he'd ever climbed, feeling the breeze cool and unrestrained across his skin. It was high enough that he could make out the red flag from here, his view clear above the canopy.

He was indeed quite a distance from it though, so far in fact that it didn't looked like a flag pole but more like someone had stuck a gray toothpick with a tiny rectangle on the end, in some moss. The forest, green and unbroken, flowed with the shape of the land to the horizon. Shading his eyes with a hand, Izuku followed its contours. It was amazing. He'd never been this high before without being in a building. Taking a moment and combing a hand through his mossy green hair up to get his bangs out of the way, he leaned forward to scope out more details in the greenery before him. Tongue out and eyes squinted in concentration, the four year old focused as hard as he could, both on climbing tree and now trying to take in the forest and thus missed the nest of spotted brown green eggs tucked between the trunk and limb.

The harsh croak made his heart leap in his chest and he snapped his head around in time to see a crow swoop for his face. It's black wings spread wide and flapping, it looked even bigger as it closed on him. He jumped, trying to ward the animal off then whirling his arms as his heels shifted just enough to put off his careful balancing act. Wobbling, Izuku's internal gyroscope worked overtime to keep him from pitching over, feet shuffling. The crow in a series of outraged caws backed off for as long for it to reorient itself to buzz him again.

It didn't get the chance. A deep low-pitched groaning of wood met his ears and made Izuku freeze. All too late, he figured that the branch, thick as it was, only stayed stable as long at the weight on it wasn't being thrown around.

The Crack was like thunderclap to his ears and his stomach rose as the rest of him dropped. Tumbling through empty air like a stone, he desperately clawed for something...anything but he was too far from the trunk. Fear tightened his chest and choked any screams he would've made into small whimpers. Tiny noises which went silent as he crashed through thin branches, swatting at his body like whips hard enough to sting yet so weak they barely slowed his fall.

He yelped. A particularly firm branch struck him across the chest hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs before his momentum snapped it like a twig. It bounced him further away from the tree and stopped his wild spin, giving him a clear view of the rising ground and shrinking empty air in between.

He had to stop! His sharp eyes were able to easy make out the thin blades of grass sprouting between heavy roots and smooth moss covered rocks. Izuku was a smart child but even if he wasn't, he knew hitting that wouldn't be good. He needed to stop! If he didn't-

The ground closed in on him like a wall ready to crush far too fast. The trees roots looking more deadly with every passing second.

The four year old threw his arms forward, palms forward to brace and as his breath came back, screamed as loud as he could. "STOP!"

By all rights, Izuku should've hit the ground and been lucky if he lived through it with just a broken arm. He was fully aware of that and, many years later when he thought back to this moment, remembered the fear, the near blind icy panic that pounded his veins and tightened his chest. He would indeed remember and be unafraid to look into the empty eyes of a threat much greater than the memory and try what he'd done again.

The scream ripped through the tranquil forest atmosphere like the crack of a gun and just before he hit the ground, the four year old felt a shock run through him from tongue to tailbone. An impact ran through his arms, a jolt the reminded him of the time he'd pushed on a heavy door just as it was swinging closed. The curtain of dust and dirt flung him and he felt his stomach twist slightly at the intimidate change in direction.

Landing at an angle and much slower speed, he hit the ground with a small grunt rolling to a stop a good distance away from the tree he'd fallen from.

Curled into as tight a ball he could managed, Izuku lay on the ground shaking, short panicky breaths making his voice squeak with each on he took. His head felt like it was bobbing in a tub, ears rushing, and seeing spots even though his eyes were screwed tight. The ground under him felt like it was turning slowly and he could feel his heart beating against his ribs, making his breaths vibrate in his lungs.

When he tried to stand, he was shaking so bad that his arms and legs wobbled like that jelly he'd eaten earlier. They gave and he fell onto his butt. "Ouch," he hissed rubbing the sore spot

Should he tell his mom? He shook his head as soon as he thought about it. He shouldn't have been in the tree in the first place and he didn't want to disappoint her when explaining what he'd done.

He walked his way back to the house, stopping for awhile at a creek that he'd past in his headlong charge. He only planned to throw two or three stones in the water before leaving. That changed when he skipped his first stone, a smooth river rock, hard enough to clear the water in two skips and just barely miss the trunk of a small tree on the bank.

Trying again, the third rock grazed his target, going off to the side somewhere and into the grass. The fourth hit dead center and from there he made target practice of it, every stone tossed with a little more force behind it. By the time he felt it was time to go, the tree had so many stone stuck into it, he'd been forced to angle the last throw higher to avoid them.

As he left the riverbed and went back to his Great-Grandma's house, with no clue of the depth of the crater he'd left near where he'd fallen.

The property inspectors would bring the ditch to Izumi's attention a month later and theorize that maybe someone was breaking onto her property looking for something and that cameras might need to be set up near the boundary. The woman in question would smile sweetly, say she'd take their advice into consideration.

XXX

How far had she gone? Inko had no clue but gave no effort to guess. Her heart slammed against her ribs, lungs working like a bellows, and sweat had long past beaded on her skin and was streaming down her face, but she didn't let up. Her sprint carried her further and further, trees passing by as indistinct blurs at the edge of her vision as she focused on the goal ahead. When her body began to ache, she powered through it. The muscles in her body tightened. Just a little bit at a time until, right as the sun began its journey from noon to evening, both legs folded under her.

Managing one step in an attempt to catch herself, she fell hard. Her body unable to keep up with the monumental strain she'd forced it through and barely managed to not smash her face into the road. Pain snapped through her arms as she caught her right elbow on the road. With a cry of pain, her one extra step and momentum carried her from the center of the narrow road and into a low ditch leading into a clear and open field.

She landed back first, her shoulder and thigh singing the high notes in the symphony of agony playing through her, and was left staring up into the sky. Blue with streaks of white puffy brushstroke clouds lazily drifted above. Sweat, soaked through her shirt, stung her eyes and made everything hard to see. Her hard heavy breathing was balanced on a knife point from hyperventilating, sounding both raspy and wet. Her temples throbbed and her skin pulsed, and her injuries were making her pay, the fire paving white hot tracks between her shoulder and thigh where supernovas seared their mark in her nerves. Her fingers twitched and she barely felt the cuts she knew were on her elbows. Was that good or bad, she didn't know. What she did know was, right now she could barely move, was bleeding at the side of the road in a field with no cellphone and quite unable to crawl, much less stand.

That wasn't why she began to weep though. The pain in her body couldn't match the gaping hole of dread in her chest, the terrible certainty that her grandmother was telling her the truth. She cried for herself, for Izuku, for the end of their simple lives. Inko mourned for it all because, she felt that itch in the back of her mind. A desire that, even with her in such a sorry exhausted state, reared in her mind like a ghost returned for the grave. It had been given a label by her grandmother and now, Inko truly understood the depths of her change.

Her grandmother was telling the truth.

Inko was sobbing so hard that she barely noticed the sounds of someone coming through the grass, the shape of a man leaning into her sight indistinct with her blurred eyes. "Jeez, are you okay, Ma'am?" The words dripped against her senses like light rain.

Her answer was to weep harder.

No. No, she wasn't. Maybe she never would be again.

It took a great deal of convincing, once she'd gotten control of herself, for the man who apparently owned the land Inko had taken a tumble into, to take her, a strange injured, hysterically crying woman he happened upon to her grandmother's house and not the hospital. Or to the local police. Thankfully, while the man didn't know Izumi personally but being a neighbor of sorts, he knew where she lived and believed her when she told him she was her granddaughter. His concern clearly wasn't eased since when he asked what happened to her shoes on the drive over, Inko had given him a confused look and with effort, looked down at her bare dirty bleeding feet.

All that running and it took a stranger for her to notice she hadn't put her shoes back on before leaving the house. Upon arrival, the man knocked at front door and when her grandmother opened it, had a short discussion that ended with the man looking more mollified than before. Clearly, Izumi had put him at ease and held the door open as the man helped Inko out of his Daihatsu truck.

With painful effort on her part, Inko was helped to the upstairs bedroom, the guest one, not her old one. Once she was seated on the bed, leaning into the headboard for support her grandmother thanked the man, told him she could take it from here, and led the man out.

A short minute later, Inko heard her grandmother's footsteps on the hardwood stairs, coming up fast and steady and entered the room. In her left hand was a green medical kit, a large one with the symbol of the red cross on its side and tucked under her right arm was a set of towels and washcloths. "First," she began in a voice that spoke of experience and brokered no argument. It wasn't angry, though that's what Inko had expected. A scolding reprimand for doing something foolish and stupid. Instead, there was that kindness and patience that her grandmother carried like a wallet. "we need to get you out of those clothes and clean up your wounds before they get infected. Next, tomorrow you're coming on a hike with me so we can cover the rest of what you need to know."

The thought of doing anything tomorrow was enough to get a groan from her, knowing that her body was going to pay her back double but she refused to complain. She'd just given herself a hard lesson which luck had saved her from an even harder one. She would have still been out there baking in the sun and there was no point complaining.

Taking her grandmother's hand, Inko was pulled to her feet and leaned against Izumi for support who barely seemed bothered by burden and helped her into the large guest bathroom. It was more than a little infantilizing to need her grandmother's help to undress but not only did she accept the help, she was glad for it. Every limb and muscle barely cooperated when she wanted to do something. Twisting or bending was out of the question and trying to pull off her shirt had been more than difficult. So much so, that Izumi had to used the medical scissors to cut them off after the fifth failed try.

Once everything was off and she was seated on the bathtub edge, Izumi used a detachable shower head to began rinsing the dirt off. Starting at the feet and then up the body, making specific care of her elbows. To Inko's relief, the fall had hurt much more than the cuts made. The lukewarm water stung where it touched, aggravating but clearing away the dirt and sweat, a murky runoff flowing down the drain. After it was all off, her grandmother opened the kit and with rubbing alcohol soaked cotton balls and a pair of tweezers, dabbed the open wounds.

Soon, even that was done and Izumi after rinsing out the tub, plugged the drain and began filling it was warm water. The bath was relaxing, quick, and once Inko dried off enough, Izumi dressed the cuts in gauze after one last rub down of alcohol. Then she left to bring in the suitcases from the car.

The whole affair had been silent, save for an exchange of yes-no questions like 'Does this hurt? Do you think you can reach there?' or instructions to follow such as 'Bend your arm like this. Relax your hand, Child.' Nothing more than that.

Inko spent it thinking and Izumi gave her time to think. The air wasn't tense but vacant of inevitable discussion like two people at a dinner table knowing an unpleasant subject needed to be brought up but there was no need to ruin a good meal, it could wait until then. When Izumi came back into the bathroom with a set of clothes in her hands, Inko asked the only question she could as she put on her clothes, an exercise in trial and error to figure out what did and didn't hurt. "How bad will it be?"

Her grandmother said nothing for a long moment and Inko worried that she wouldn't answer. "It's not going to be easy. For me it was like a craving, one that I worked hard to not to indulge but others in the past have described it as an addiction comparable to a drug and like a drug, you have to keep seeking more and more of to satisfy. If it's like a drug, then I guess it depends of your willpower."

Inko nodded silently. She only noticed the black book in her grandmother's hands. Izumi set the book down on the end table next to the lamp. "Read this. You won't get through it all tonight so I think you should start with my entries." She said, making a point to tap the red bookmark inside. "They pertain to the more present issues and don't read like some Shakespearean play."

Inko nodded again and she nor her grandmother broached the subject any further. They both knew what had to be done and there was no point beating it in any further.

By the time Izuku had bounded back in, she'd managed to get back downstairs and had turned on the TV to some random channel. It was easy for her to put on a brave face for him as, after she got him to take a bath since he looked like he decided to roll down a few hills, he tried his best to tell her in a single breath how great the forest was.

"And the trees are so tall!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up to give scale. His wild gesture caused him to bounce on the living room couch a bit. While his enthusiasm was infectious, helping Inko smile through the sharp deep pains in her muscles, her chest ached. A mournful leftover for a past that was never going to come back and the fear of an unknown future tugging at her heartstrings. "You can see everything from up one of them."

That got her to lift an eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"

Her son got very quiet, a shocked look on his face that steady turned guilty. "Just guessed, you know?" She didn't believe him. Her son was bright but he never 'just guessed' anything. The lie was only made more obvious by the sudden clinical interest her son picked up in the few blank spaces of wall in the living room. Coincidentally, it also happened that the wall kept him from looking at her.

"Young man." She said, putting just the right tone to it and her son jumped a little at her voice. "I'm going to let it go, but don't lie to me again."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

_**A/N: SOMEONE GIVE JUMPER PRIME A PRIZE! This one got it correct!**_


	4. Act 0-4

**A/N: Thank Tellemicus Sundance for actually helping me get this mess out! Without him, I wouldn't have finished this chapter! Like Seriously, go thank him. He added the last section of this entire story.**

_Forgive me for getting philosophical here but after mulling this over for a while I have no other way to pose this question and my answer to it._

_What does it mean to be innocent? Most would say it's a state of mind, to lack a certain negative quality that can influence your choices in some way. I believe it's more comparable to a state of knowledge, of belief, to know something to be true that makes the world seem safer or simple. For me, that weekend had ended a great deal of normalcy and shattered a sense of safety that most kids my age would've never had on their mind. I sometimes wonder how our lives would have been without the disaster from which had changed for us. If I'd remained 'Quirkless' and grew up to have that simple and safe normal life my mother had always wanted for me. And I do know her desire was for me to be well and healthy. But our inheritance of a kind, had set us on a path that couldn't be easily changed. In a way the criminal Alan opened the door to a maze, shoved us through, and locked it behind us. Izumi gave us the best road map that we were ever going to get and helped us through those first steps. The failure of the law to keep us safe was what had set the two of us to stride forward. Not without fear, but certainly with a need to not be helpless again._

X

"We've figured it out."

Aizawa was proven wrong again today. He'd thought the tension in the conference room yesterday had been high. Now though, he wished he could go back to that 'scent of cherry blossom springtime air' of yesterday. Anger, frustration, and exhaustion shrouded the room like a thick fog and his temples pounded like war drums. The migraine, most likely from all the coffee he'd been swilling, had grown to such a rhythmic throbbing that the over-the-counter painkillers were only taking the edge off.

And the woman on the communication screen didn't feel a hint of it, though the entire room was plainly focused on her. She did have the air of a woman who was also harried and stressed, though.

While Eraserhead and every hero present had been going back to the store as fast as they could, the police had called Interpol, who in turn, had sent the Americans their new evidence on Blane's abilities. Now the Americans were calling them back with their end of the investigation.

The American Hero who addressed them all wasn't Apollo. Her name, both hero and private, was Janice "Bully" Barker and she was as famous in the States as All Might was in Japan. While the latter did have a more worldwide appeal, Janice was known for doing something so crazy that few would ever replicate, permanently linking her normal identity to her Hero one.

While there was a link between heroes and their civilian lives if anyone really investigated, there also was a separation of sorts. The hero got to decide how far that separation was. Some dove headfirst into their careers while others treated it like a 9 to 5 job and were done when they 'clocked out.' Paparazzi and the media usually only went after the costume and not the person wearing it as well but there were always some jackasses who would go out of their way to track some heroes to their homes and harass them when they weren't working. It was frowned upon but not illegal.

Janice was the first one to simply cut out that separation entirely. She was never not off the clock. Her costume was her suit and her mask was her face. Even her home address was public record.

Her Quirk helped in that. Known as Workforce, it allowed her to make semi-permanent clones that were almost like a hive mind and could do tons of different jobs at the same time. He had no doubt that it was one of her clones that lived in her home. It was so great for investigation and general ground operations that he wasn't surprised by the rumor that she was an investigative department all her own. It also explained her perfect Japanese.

Not only that, but looking at her the woman was so much the former's opposite that Apollo, with his blonde hair, bronzed skin, and absurdly white teeth, seemed almost a caricature in costume. She was a black woman, hair done up in a short military bun, with a black suit and tie on and an American flag pin on her lapel. Whereas Apollo had looked almost petulant in his frustration when Aizawa had nearly berated him, if any snide comment or looks were bothering her as she spoke, it didn't show. He'd almost applauded such steadfastness. It wasn't something he could pull off on his best day.

This wasn't his best day. Still, he as did everyone in the room, paid close attention to what she was saying.

"Apparently, our criminal had done more than gone on a killing spree when he went to break his partner out. The mental hospital and specifically his doctor, Morris Marine, had the specifics of his quirk on his private files. Dr. Marine was one of the victims during the breakout and his computer was one thing out of a massive amount of property damage. We can assume now that both were specifically targeted."

It made a sick sort of sense. A Quirk with that level of obfuscation would be an ace up the sleeve for anyone, but a major one for any villain.

"One warrant to search his doctor's house later and we got the last piece of the puzzle." From there the woman expounded. "His Quirk is called Wiring and he can hide himself and one other person in electronics. But there is a limit, only battery powered devices of significant voltage or disconnected appliances for no longer than 24 hours and whatever he is inside at the time cannot be plugged in otherwise he's forced out." A video was pulled up on screen, the one that had given them their evidence.

The resolution wasn't good, no matter if the camera was cheap or the computer had been damaged someway, the file had a bit of fuzz. The villain's first victim on Japanese soil, Kaba Osamu, looked all the straight lanced businessman he was. His record couldn't be more average and cleaner than if it had been snapped together like a puzzle. He'd been in the middle of recording something for his work when he must've noticed the battery getting low as the video showed him reaching for the side of the computer and a clicking noise following it.

"When your hotel victim plugged his laptop in to keep it charged, it was like someone opened a door and gave Alan and his girl the boot." Janice said for the members in the conference room who had yet to watch it.

The effect wasn't sudden. It took about twelve seconds. Kaba was in the middle of stating stock points to the camera when there was a flash and the roar of noise that blew out the was so bright it caused the camera to glitch but when the recording cleared, Kaba was pinned to his hotel room bed, the girl on top of him. The villain at large had the man by his legs, having dragged him from the desk or something. The video was stopped there just before the made the whole thing just that little bit nastier in Aizawa's mind was that Kaba's records registered him as Quirkless. The man wouldn't have been able to defend himself even if he'd wanted to.

"So how do we track him down if he can just hide in anything that runs on electricity?" Aizawa asked. This nightmare would get so much worse if their criminal could keep pulling the same trick. They had cameras trying to track him down and they'd yet to get word from any of their investigators and the public was getting rightfully antsy. The call center was flooded with false sightings and the like.

"That's the good news actually." Janice said, the corner of her mouth twitching into a tiny smile so quickly that he wasn't sure if he'd seen it or not. "He can only pull that off twice in one week."

The whole room seemed to straighten at that. Even Aizawa dared to let himself hope for a moment. That meant… Janice Barker read the room well because she nodded. "While he still has his blasting ability, he can't pull off that hide-and-go-seek trick of his for seven days."

Finally, the first bit of good news he'd heard since this mess had started. After lightening the mood slightly, the rest of the exchange was simply the cliff-notes version of the late Morris' files as well as them being sent by email. After that, Janice gave them all a polite bow and disconnected.

However, the heavy air quickly closed back in after that. They still had a maniac on the loose who could pop up at any time and decide he was going to go down in a blaze of glory and would take as many as he could with him. With how things had gone so far, Aizawa wouldn't be surprised if that was exactly what happened.

"THE. WHOLE. TIME." Each word, boiling with hate and brimming with poison, fell in the silent conference room like a hammer blow to the nails of disquiet that hung around everyone present. Every seat was occupied, and even more people were standing in whatever free space was available. Lower ranked heroes and police officers rubbed elbows, gathered around the table quite near the executive chairs of the topmost ranked heroes.

Save for the speaker's seat. Endeavor, a man who Aizawa considered always looking ready to haul off and hit someone when he seemed to be in a good mood, now resembled a man ready to turn the next person who sneezed in his direction the wrong way into a roman candle. His scowling face, the bunching of his jaw, large hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, and his flames fluctuating hot enough to singe the leather of his chair. He was literally burning with fury. Hell, if looks could Aizawa knew the glare aimed at the picture of the villain on the shared screens would've dropped the man wherever he was.

It was also that look which kept everyone who was standing far from Japan's Number 2 hero. No one wanted to be in the blast zone if he went off. In an act, that would've been funny in any other situation, those on their feet had gravitated to Yagi's side of the table. Not only did it seem like All Might had a way of making even people experienced with danger feel safer, but it was also to be closer to the door.

However, it seemed that no one had to make any runs for it as with a deep breath, the man got a hold on himself. His flames died down to their normal levels which allowed the overworked air-con to finally gain some ground in the packed conference room.

"He's laughing at us. Made everyone look like damn fools."

Aizawa could agree with that. This villain had been making his own people look like fools and, no doubt thought it was hilarious he could play them like a fiddle so well. They had underestimated him like the Americans had, thinking his mental instability would've made him easy to capture. And, also like the Americans, they had been served up a massive helping of humble pie.

It wouldn't have been so hard to choke down, if it hadn't cost two more innocent lives by the time they'd arrived. Misuki and the officer charged with guarding him were dead. The officer had been killed quickly. A baseball-sized hole blown in his chest but the store owner…his death hadn't been pleasant.

He didn't know when the bastard had revealed himself, but he'd taken his time on that old man. This most recent failure was bitter to swallow but Aizawa choked it down and spoke. "We have an advantage now. He doesn't know that we know about his limit. That more than anything will make him act differently. He's cocky, arrogant, but are triangulating his movements as we speak."

"So, what about the woman and her son?" Another hero asked. "Should we be worried?

"About what?" Aizawa frowned.

"Them being targeted like the store owner was?"

It was bad luck that Misuki had been at his store. There was no possible way that bastard had the resources and know-how to track down his victims in one of the biggest cities in Japan, only second to of the main reasons why they made sure to keep the media away from the victims was so that there wouldn't be slipups. One wrong line from a reporter or someone showing the outside of a building and the internet would do what it always did in situations when delicacy was needed: break it over its knee.

But before Aizawa could say that he was cut off.

An officer stepped forward from the line of them, a detective if he was correct. "No," The man stated, pulling his hat off and holding it to his chest. "On the off chance the villain was planning on going after them, he wouldn't find them. I made a welfare check with Inko Midoriya's neighbors and was told she left the city this morning."

And with the confirmation that he hadn't been helped into the country by him, there was no way this American could find them, Aizawa thought to himself. It was a small relief. Who knew the can of raw sewage that would dump on their heads if they lost both survivors to the same criminal!

"For now, everyone," he stated, rapping his knuckles on the table to bring all attention back to him. "It's a waiting and searching game. We know his tricks now. He isn't getting away this time. From this point forward, the entire city is on alert. No one is to patrol alone, not heroes and certainly not police. We will pick this city apart piece by piece to find this guy. Furthermore, everyone is to be paired up and never too far away from each other to respond if the other is attacked. If you think you've found him, do not engage or confront unless the public safety is in immediate danger. That goes for everyone." He stated while staring blatantly at Endeavor.

The muscles in the man's jaw bunched up, his brow pinching together, eyes flashing. Aizawa knew that he knew who he was probably getting paired with. Considering how this had gotten personal with the death of his intern, he knew that he wasn't going to get a chance to have some 'personal time' with the villain before dropping him in a cell. Not that the other could blame him for feeling so but All Might wouldn't let him. The Hero's flames flared briefly but said nothing and kept his arms crossed.

"The Support Department and the Police Department should coordinate everything through the radios," the hero looked to the beagle-faced police chief Kenji Tsuragamae, who gave him a nod of acquiescence as he adjusted his tie. He clearly didn't like having his beat cops in the line of fire where a uniform and badge would probably serve as a massive target on their backs. It couldn't be helped though, and everyone knew it. The media was circling like sharks, the scent of blood in the water from the busted noses that both the police and heroes had gotten since this debacle had started. And once it came out one of the victims in the robbery was dead, murdered by the same guy they'd failed to catch…

Aizawa winced, the drumbeat behind his skull sharply hitting a rimshot that lanced pins behind his eyes. Oh lord, what he wouldn't give for a nap. "We'll get started in an hour."

XXX

Inko lay in the guestroom bed, hands tucked between her head and a pillow so soft someone could drown in it and stared up at the wood rafters above. It was night and the only sounds around were the creaks of a settling house. One as big as her grandmother's made sounds all the time and probably had a draft somewhere.

It wasn't the sounds that kept her awake though, nor was it the lamp she'd left on.

Glancing over at the end table, she considered the book. Its worn leather cover and the red bookmark between the pages not even hinting at the enormity of its content. She'd yet to pick it up, much less read a page. Being this close Inko now realized just how thick the book was. It was about the size of a composition book but nearly as thick as a dictionary. Some pages were yellowed with age while other parts looked nearly new.

She'd promised her son a tour when they'd arrived today and after showing him her old bedroom, which was surprisingly unchanged, and answering his many questions, it had been almost time for dinner. Her grandmother no longer kept up the act of 'elderly woman' and had been sweeping through the kitchen, cooking and cutting and carrying things around better than any 20-year-old and gave just that bit of extra evidence to her that Izumi was telling the truth.

While Inko had done her best to keep up appearances for her son's sake, dinner was long periods of silence broken by Izuku talking to her grandmother with her two cents being added every so often. What she really wanted to say and questions she did have, were held back yet lingered around for the entire meal, clear to both of them that there was so much to cover tomorrow. They didn't even speak to each other while the dishes were being washed.

Now, here she was. Izuku put to bed, Izumi probably in her study, and unanswered questions buzzing around Inko's head like bees stinging every neuron in her brain with some answers to them within arm's grandmother had suggested that generations of family history and research was inside, so they obviously covered some of the problems on her mind.

With a gesture it floated to her hand, it's blank spine and cover gave it such an unassuming appearance that she genuinely had to wonder if it she'd seen it before now. Thinking back to the times she'd been in that very study, she realized she could've very well have seen it before now, maybe even touched it and never known how important it was.

Carefully, she opened it to the bookmark and scanned the page. It was in her grandmother's handwriting, neat and tidy lines of writing that took advantage of every inch of space it was a set of numbers and lists that she figured out was food by the frowned, not understanding at first.

_20 lbs. beef/2 weeks._  
_30 lbs. rice/12 days._  
_10 lbs. assort. Veg/1 week._

Inko sat up so fast she nearly fell out of the bed. This was the amount of food she needed to buy for her and Izuku, and how long it should last. If this needed to be doubled…she couldn't afford…! Her moment of worry left her as she noticed the tiny note that read '_for you and Izuku_'.

She must have worked these numbers out recently. The numbers on the list were daunting but not impossible, Hisashi normally sent eno-

She twitched, slamming that mental door shut before she fully stepped through it. Now was not the time to dwell on her husband. There would be plenty of time to do that later. This time when she focused back on the pages, it was with a determination not to be reeled back into her despair. A mental wall, resolute and solid, stood against it and was reinforced by the words she took in.

Her resolved crumbled when she flipped a few pages back into the entries made by the book's previous owner. She read the page again. Understanding what the words meant but not putting together their meaning. A third time didn't help. Nor did a fourth. But she didn't stop slowly scanning the page. So focused on trying to absorb what she'd read, Inko barely noticed as she began to drift off to sleep.

No falling this time. No streaks of stars or flipping around. Inko was just there now, much closer than before. The planet before her glowed a red that turned the void of space around it into a shade of dying rose. Its sight was both alien yet comforting. Being this close stirred a yearning in her chest that she hadn't felt from the distance she'd last seen it.

A melancholic weight enveloped her at the majesty of it. Looking upon it now, she could see the true beauty of it all. From far enough away, the yellow clouds and red sky and brown landmasses combined into an ugly mix that made the orb look like a massive infected wound hanging in the middle of space. But from this close, it could've been mistaken for Earth, just with different colors.

The yellow clouds were puffy, patterned into streaks or swirls as whatever weather played its part.

The sky gave the whole thing a garnet glow, a flawed jewel cut into the most perfect sphere…and Inko was dying for a closer look. To walk its ground, to taste the alien breeze, felt so right in her mind. She didn't know why. There was just a sense that she…

A distant buzz caught her attention and she looked around, confused. This was space, right? So how could she hear anything? The buzz grew, not only in volume but in texture, turning into a rumble that was steadily closing in around her.

Once she was able to narrow down it's direction, she moved to see the source. Her body, light and loose, swung around to see…

She squinted at it, not at all sure of what was approaching the planet. It looked like a child's toy, at first. A giant frisbee that had been painted with half-marbles glued on its surface. As it got closer, the lines became panels and the marbles became…glass?

Its approach slowed then stopped a way's off. Far enough that she couldn't have made out any more detail, but not so far that she missed movement from where the glass was.

Realization crashed through her and she gaped. That was a ship! An alien ship! The book hadn't mentioned anything like this. A massive machine that thrummed, powerful engines of some sort pushing it forward.

No sooner had she figured it out than the panels on its surface opened, the pieces rising into the massive construction and things came out. No, not things. Aliens, actual non-human beings, came pouring into space in dozens and dozens.

They filled the space between, humanoid creatures with different colors and features but matching clothing, shouting and screaming as they flew directly at the planet, at her. Whatever they were trying to bellow, if they even spoke the same language she did, went unheard by the answer that came. The only answer that sounded like something a human voice could make.

To call the sound a 'scream', suggested at an emotion the voice making it didn't carry. It wasn't a bellow either, the aliens were doing that and more. It was all whooping and clicking and snarling, a good racket. Nothing like the unyielding, almost inevitable aspect to the single voice that cinched at something in her. It was a rumble that clutched at the hearts of a village at the base of a volcano. It was the first howl of wind from a hurricane. It was the first growl in the wilderness heard upon waking in the dark of the night.

It didn't make promises or threats.

The man's war cry, rage and pain, made its single-minded intention known to all who heard it. If there were any words to it, Inko didn't know. However, her brain buzzed, and her senses expanded, her body filling in what language could not.

Complete and total destruction.

The figure making it, blitzed by her in a blue comet so fast that by the time Inko had even registered it, he was ascending to meet this charge head on. The incoming aliens closed their ranks to block the bright blue missile aimed at them and the ship.

They broke upon it. Firing yellow beams, Inko could only guess lasers, at the figure still shrouded in blue light. It was a volley aimed at a central target and collided together with the sound and flash of a grenade going off.

Their target wasn't even slowed. He smashed into those in his path like a spiked wrecking ball, turning those he hit directly into pieces and sweeping aside those who weren't. After seeing that, Inko knew if she'd been anywhere that could've even been described as 'in the way' she'd have long since run for all she'd been worth. Clearly there were braver souls than she in that crowd.

Instead of running, the aliens continued to charge and without any hesitation started to dogpile the figure as if they were players in an American football game. A few were knocked away but numbers won out and soon so many latched onto him or each other that she couldn't even see the blue glow anymore. Already they were slowing, just enough that she could make out a piece of a green outfit or chestplate stood out among the browns and alien coloration.

What followed was terrible and amazing to behold. Light slipped through the gaps between the packed in forms of the attackers, who were struggling to stop him or maybe holding on for dear life. Then a WHUMP met her ears, the sound of a heavy rolled up carpet hitting the ground from a great height and bodies went in every direction, some with parts missing.

The charge continued, picking up even more speed with less distance between him and the ship. Anyone who tried to stop him were either blasted, knocked out of the way, or dodged and sent off course or into another attacker. Moving so fast that Inko could barely keep up with her eyes, the man trailed light behind him, drawing curves and spirals through the aliens like a living brush, leaving casualties in the wake of each stroke.

At this point, most detail was lost. Inko was too far away and yet, couldn't bring herself to get any closer. The man wasn't fighting, he was a force of nature. A disaster. Inevitable and uncaring of the lives being taken…yet there was something desperate about it. It was looking less and less like a single man taking out everyone before him as with each attacker downed two or more replaced them. The blue comet slowed little by little, its tail shrinking closer to the man in the center. It was slight but eventually even as far away as she was, it was obvious that his speed had slacked.

It clicked for her then.

This was a last stand.

It took some effort, but she managed to tear her eyes from the spectacle, searching around. The empty void around her took her awe, the tinge of excitement growing in her mind and made it wither and die like a flower in a summer drought. This fighter was alone. A whole planet and the only thing standing between it and…invasion, she guessed, was one man.

That was as bad a sign as one could get. Suddenly, the sounds of battle stopped and Inko snapped back to the battlefield. She didn't know what had happened, but the blue light was gone. The trails that had been traced against the blackness of space gone as if never having been. Was the fighter dead? The idea caused a jolt of emotion in her so sudden that she didn't have time to identify it before the next odd thing happened.

Instead of continuing their flight down to the planet like she expected, if its only line of defense was dead, the aliens scattered out of the path of the ship so quickly that in spite of the vast room they had, some still managed to bounce into one another. Inko could recognize a panicked rush to get out of the way. Aliens or no, there was just something about it that emanated an instinctual fear to save their own lives.

With everyone out of the way, she was able to see something. The orange glimmer was difficult to see at first since she was slightly below the ship, having to look up this whole time. The orange light barely peaked over the top of the ship, its intensity wavering between laser pointer to the eyes and flashing mirror over the horizon

Then the shine grew. Like an isolated sunrise, orange light got brighter and brighter until the curve of a large orb finally peaked above the ship's edge. And it didn't stop. This must have been some kind of weapon. It certainly explained the other's rush to get away. They were in the firing line.

The orb beggared belief, every time she was certain it had reached its maximum size it continued expanding. Soon it was larger than the ship which now actually looked like a child's toy in comparison and she could see its surface in perfect detail.

Her stomach dropped even as she was forced to look more to the side than straight at it. It had an evil angry shine like a spotlight to the face. A star. It looked like a sun. It was as if someone yanked the picture of the sun off the page from every science textbook or article she'd ever read and put it here at this moment. She didn't have to imagine what the purpose of a weapon like that was. It terrified her, the waves of heat hammering down on her doing nothing for the frozen vice tightening around her heart.

It was against that intense lighting, that a lone figure hovered. His body little more than a pin of shadow against the orange. She knew who it was, not even having to think about who would be bold enough to stand defiant against a sun. The man who charged such massive numbers alone. That lone fighter.

What happened next seemed almost a parody of the spectacle and action she'd seen up to now.

There was no dramatic countdown with a digital timer. No rising whine of a device charging. Nothing lighting up to signal anything. Not even a voice or voices bellowing back at the warrior. The small star just…floated down, like a slowly deflating balloon or a dandelion puff caught in a slight wind. The massive energy ball slowly descended towards the planet and the fighter disappeared as well as any aliens, dead and alive who were in its unrelenting path, consumed by the orange, red and white shifting surface.

Horror sunk through every cell in Inko's body and all the way down to her soul as she watched it slowly, yet far too quickly, close in on the planet. One orb plunged into the other like a knife, sinking deeper and deeper until it was little more than a single pinpoint of light, dust and debris turning the area of sky where it impacted gray. A breath of nothing for a moment. Then the first crack appeared slowly as did the second and third. Like watching glass crack in slow motion, the glowing fissures spread more and more.

Then it exploded. The planet cracking apart as if it were a ceramic bauble that someone had put a lit firecracker in. Inko crossed her arms in front of her at the flash, already knowing it was useless. The blast wave, carrying liquid rock and heat, was coming for her.

She was too close.

She was too-

XXX

Izuku woke up with his usual burst of energy for a Saturday and quickly wriggled out of the large bed and started making it up. Sure, five in the morning was an unusual time for any child to get up at, especially on a weekend but not every child always wanted to be the first to watch the newest episode of the Heroic Hour Show featuring All Might. While the episode would broadcast again at eight, he loved the show too much to not watch it twice in one day.

As a consequence, the early rise was habit by now.

After tucking the sheets and quickly going to the bathroom, he reached out with his tail and with a bit of effort wrapped it around his toothbrush. It was a steady slow movement, the plastic thing felt ready to slip to the floor any moment. Bringing it around and passing it to his hand, he pumped his little fist in victory and started brushing his teeth. Soon his morning routine was done, and he hurried to get downstairs. Both the room he slept in and the bathroom were at the end of the hall and close to each other, so it was only when he was in the middle of passing his mommy's door that he noticed the odd noises.

Curiosity made him freeze in mid-step and hearing it again, he raised a small hand to knock. Two gentle taps got no response and he decided to enter. Taking care just in case she was sleeping, he gripped the knob and turned it so slowly and so carefully, the bolt barely made a click as it slid.

He pushed the door and nearly jumped out of his PJs when the hinges creaked, the '_cr-k cr-k cr-k_' sounding like a jackhammer to his ears. Immediately, he froze, a muddled mix of apprehension and guilt stirring his belly as he listened, certain he'd woken his mommy up. Even though he'd only wanted to make sure she was okay, Izuku didn't want to disturb her.

With the door open, it took not even two seconds before the noise that caught his attention in the first place came again, crystal clear and enough to push his guilt away like a candle in a stiff breeze.

Whimpering.

His mother was whimpering.

Her back was to him but Izuku could see the shudder of her shoulders under the blankets. He approached the bed slowly, more nervous than he'd been outside. What could be scaring his mommy like this? The answer came to him just as he got close enough to make out the sweat beading on her face.

That villain. She had to be having a scary dream about him! He sometimes did, too. Thinking in the only way a four-year-old could, he reached out and gave her a hug. It wasn't a good one, he was short and reaching up awkwardly to hold his mommy, but he gave it his best. He didn't know if it helped her, but he gave it all he could. To be honest, that villain scared him too. He'd hurt those older boys and hurt him and his mommy bad enough that they had been in a hospital. His arms tightened a little more. That bad villain was the kind he wanted to stop when he grew up, the type that All Might could defeat with a single punch. He wanted to do that so his mommy wouldn't have to worry.

The shivering lessened and Izuku was sure it had worked. Stepping back, he saw a black leather book on the floor near his foot and, picking it up, set it next to the lamp. It was then that an idea hit him and as fast as quietness could allow, he left the room to find some paper.

XXX

Inko jolted awake, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Panic flowed away from her mind, the vision lingering just long enough to make her question if it hadn't been a dream. Her skin tingled, a phantom scent of burning hanging around in her nose before being shoved aside as she breathed in the fake flowery aroma of her bedroom air freshener. So, with a trembling breath, she held back the sobs trying to escape from her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks unnoticed, an extra bit of moisture to stain her sweat soaked pillow.

It took Inko a long, long time for the desire to curl up and weep to leave her. She didn't know why not totally. It was a dream of death on such an apocalyptic scale, yet…seeing it had hurt her to her core, both horrifying and heartbreaking in equal measure. Something deep in her soul cried out in pain too deep to sooth in any way but deep breaths.

Soon, the mental agony of what she seen drained out and left her feeling hollow long enough for physical pain to fill her like water in an empty glass.

Getting out of bed was only slightly easier than trying to lift her husband's car, Inko was certain. Every muscle hurt when she moved as if she'd been stretched and pulled like taffy. The cuts on her feet and arms burned, her skin tingled, and a weight had covered her, making it feel like the blankets were made of lead.

Soon though, the sheets became lighter and she swung her legs out of bed. After a quick shower, she sat on the mattress deep in thought. Glancing at the book left on the table, her mind orbiting what she'd learned, that vision, and what to do with it. For herself and Izuku, her choices here would decide the course of their lives. Her son wanted to be a hero and with this Quirk or curse or ability, that was apparently so dormant that an expert couldn't detect it until now, he could be. He now _had_ to be.

Their normal lives were over and if she wanted to be certain of his future then hero work was the way to go. Even considering losing her son to a desire for conflict was enough to put goosebumps on her skin. And she wasn't sure about her own self-control either. The rash choice to simply go on a 'run' without shoes or direction was a burning example.

An idea slowly took shape in her mind and bit by bit it grew more substantial. Getting to her feet, she made for her grandmother's study downstairs as she remembered the computer on the desk. The desktop was probably the newest item in the house and when she turned it on, it was a relief to see a WIFI connection available. Clicking open the web browser, she focused herself to the task of researching.

Izuku _would_ be a hero.

But Inko had no idea what that meant. The broad strokes she knew. Everyone did. Heroes handled what the police couldn't. But her experience in the last few days was a siren, screaming to her how shockingly ignorant she was about an industry that was her son's passion, that she even encouraged with their games. Besides All Might, what did she really know about heroes? Nothing, and that gap left her vulnerable.

For a moment her skin prickled in embarrassment and self-recrimination, nearly smacking herself over her idle ignorance. She was encouraging her son to dive headfirst into a life she knew nothing about. What kind of mother wouldn't even check? Settling in for a long early morning, she began to research…and she didn't like what she found. At first, she found pretty much what she expected. News articles on heroic acts that headlined that day. She got to the U.A website, among several other universities, with details of scholarship and grant programs with praise abounding over how this school or that school will guarantee your child has a successful hero career and how much money they would make.

What tarnished the shine off was an article on a less trafficked website on casualty statistics. Her stomach dropped as she read them. The percentage of Heroes killed in the line of duty decreased the longer the hero was active from their debut, but the percentage started uncomfortably high. Boiling it down to the essentials, the first six months to a year was the deciding factor and past that the chances went down sharply. She decided right then that she would make sure Izuku had the best preparation. That meant training, and training meant training equipment.

So, she went on a little bit of an online shopping spree. It took hours to find the right kind of stuff that would also fit in the apartment. Sure, they would have to move things around, but the inconvenience was a small irritation compared to being ready. Because, this wasn't just for her son. No, she'd never put her little ball of sunshine through what she planned and not do it herself first.

With the ordering done, she began looking up martial arts schools in the area around her home. By the time breakfast was cooking, Inko had a list of no less than 17 schools of various marital arts scribbled down. Before she joined her grandmother in the kitchen, she tucked the folded paper in her purse.

It was only then that she noticed a glass of water on the side table next to the book. Under the glass was a sheet of blue colored paper with Izuku's handwriting on it. This time when tears began to well up, she didn't try to hold them back as she lifted the drink to read the note.

_Don't worry, Mommy.  
I Am Here.  
-Love Izuku.  
(The Water is yours)_

XXX

Breakfast was quiet but not silent. Izuku got to watch his favorite show with his meal in the living room while she and her grandmother sat at the table. This morning's breakfast was steak and eggs with toast. A heavy meal for anyone but them. Inko could tell that this was little more than a light snack to start the day off, a contrast to the heavy subjects in her mind. But she barely nibbled on her food. Her nerves had twisted knots in her stomach so tight she barely managed to choke down the one square of toast she had.

Belly both aching in hunger and swirling in nauseating loops, Inko sighed, leaned back in her chair and glanced at her son. Izuku mouthed along with a tune from the TV, a large piece of steak on the end of his fork clutched tight in his fingers. "Grandma, have you seen the red…" She paused, rubbing her chin in thought. The question hadn't been planned unlike the rest and she actually needed a moment to figure out what term to use for the vision.

"Planet?" Izumi finished for her. "Yes, I have and I'm assuming you have as well, since you're asking." Inko wasn't surprised in the slightest. She had years more experience on this than her.

"It's…" Again, Inko took her time to find the right word. "It's beautiful."

"That it is." Her grandmother said, taking a bite of her breakfast. "In older entries, some of our ancestors who did see it called it the 'Blood Moon'. A bit dramatic but then again…maybe not. When did you see it first?"

She didn't have to think very long about it. "In the hospital."

"Hmm… That seems about right. I saw it for the first time, shortly after your father was born." The answer, while clear, gave Inko the feeling that there was more to be said. "I guess you could call it an omen of sorts."

"And I saw it again last night, closer this time." Inko added, nibbling at her toast again. As much as she didn't feel like eating, having something on her stomach would help her feel better she knew.

"Closer?" Her grandmother looked up from her plate, curious. "What do you mean?"

"Just closer, you know?" She wanted to add that she saw things that had to be aliens or mention the warrior that faced them down by himself. "I saw some things. A battle, I think."

The momentary interest that lit a glimmer on her grandmother's eyes seemed to fade at that and she shrugged. "Get used to that. You'd think things would calm down when your head hits the pillow. At least, right up until you're dreaming about it." Then she smiled a little sadly Inko thought. "I once woke up your grandfather by bopping him square in the nose. Didn't even know I did it until he yelped, told me afterward I had one hell of a jab but my follow through was lacking."

Izumi chuckled at the memory, but Inko couldn't even manage a smile. She wanted to say there was more to it than that. There had to be. Waking up with terror and horrific painful sadness burning her down to the bone, a miserable despair so deep, dark, and clinging that she hadn't been able to see straight? No, that wasn't just a dream of battle. Maybe she could've imagined the aliens, the warrior in green cloaked in blue light. She could even convince herself that the ship was pulled from some science fiction movie or book or something she'd seen long ago.

The emotion though? That had been real, and she couldn't convince herself that even the worst kind of nightmare could've made her feel that way. However, any chance of continuing the subject for the moment it was pushed to the back of her mind as her grandmother stood up after taking her last bite of food. "But I'll explain more on the way."

"I suggest you change into some more comfortable clothes and a better pair of shoes." She said, as she gathered up the plates. "You'll be sore if you don't."

Inko didn't question it, she changed into a pair of jeans and sneakers and was back downstairs just in time to hear Izumi talking to Izuku. "…oing on a little walk, so stay out of the forest in the meantime. Understand?"

She could practically hear the nod. "Yes, ma'am."

As she rounded the corner, she noticed the duffle bag over her grandmother's shoulder, a faded green thing that was small enough to carry easily on a long hike. With a quick hug from her son, Inko followed Izumi out the back door. No sooner did the door shut behind them did her grandmother start as they stepped off the back patio. "Let's cover the basics first. You saw the food lists?"

Inko nodded. The daunting sizes were one of the many things that stood out in the book.

"Good, as you noticed I suggested a great deal of fillers. Rice and the like to go with the vegetables and meat. That's to stretch out meals. You've noticed the appetite changes, or course so here is my first warning. Go for quality when you can. As little processed foods as you can manage."

"Why?" She hadn't planned on buying much of that kind of stuff anyway but if her grandmother was going out of her way to say it, she knew she needed to listen.

"Well, that stuff's nasty. Have you ever tried spam?" Izumi chuckled with a shake of her head. "Won't recommend unless you've picked the mold off your last slice of bread."

It was a cold morning for the summer, with just enough chill in the air that it left dew sparking in the morning sun like tiny diamonds. However, Inko was far from focused on that as her grandmother took the lead and, for the first time in years, she stepped out into the forest that had once been such an adventurous playground.

It didn't feel so nostalgic now. Following the older woman to a slightly overgrown trail she'd either forgotten or never knew was there, the tall trees and the beams of sunlight cutting through the leaves gave everything a more…dreamy feeling. The whispering of the long grass against her legs as she walked, the chirping from the birds above, the warmth of the sun on her skin, if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine tha-

"So, what's your first question?"

At once the spell shattered as Izumi's prompting brought unanswered questions from yesterday crashing into new ones dredged up by what she'd read in the book. Silence followed as Inko, hurrying to catch up, shuffled through a near textbook of things that all wanted to come out at once. It was the tickle of her new limb brushing against a nearby tree that made her decision. "Why did you think this…thing wasn't a problem anymore?"

The answer didn't come right away. While she couldn't see her grandmother's face, there was a shift in her shoulders that gave the impression she was ashamed. "Two reasons," she finally said as she stepped around something in the grass before tapping her temple with a finger. "First, was the aggression. It had a tendency to rear its head long after the tails stopped growing in at birth. My father for example had a temper unlike anything I've ever seen before or since. Don't get me wrong, the man was a gentle giant, but it wouldn't take too hard of a push to make him blow his stack. And from what he told me, his mother, my grandmother, was even worse. Oh, I had a bit of a temper but nothing like my father's and when your…" She sighed deeply, rubbing her chin in thought as they walked nearly shoulder to shoulder. She tried and failed to look nonchalant but her eyes gave away apprehension. "I…we've lost plenty of family to it. Which brings me to the second reason."

She waited but it seemed Izumi wanted to listen to the forest around them, birds chirping, bugs whining by, the distant burbling of a creek which would've only been heard in lonely rural places like this. "Which is?" Inko said, her question ushering her grandmother to fill in the silence that followed.

"While I was raising you, you showed none of that, Inko. No desire to lash out when tested or a quick temper or barely reined in temptation to fight. Your boy takes after you even more so. I'd call the two of you timid if I wasn't called such by my own father, Hiroki."

Inko nearly fell over at that last sentence. "You? Timid?"

"Yeah, by the benchmark of our family's usual behavior, I was the unassuming, unassertive, demure daddy's girl of the family." Her grandmother laughed at the look on her face. "Surprised?"

'Surprised' didn't even begin to cover it. Of the two biggest personalities in her life, Mitsuki and her grandmother, Izumi won out. This was a woman who spoke her mind, blunt as a hammer, with the ability to turn her kind sweet-as-sugar personality into a wrecking ball that would smash aside those who thought there wasn't steel behind her politeness. Inko had once seen her berate a purse snatcher that had tried to…well, snatch her purse which failed because of the woman's iron grip. A grip that now had quite the explanation to it.

By all rights, a woman her grandmother's age would've screamed or called for the police

And she did it all without ever uttering a word of profanity.

The one time she had heard Izumi Midoriya swear was after that night in the hospital when they'd been at the county jail. It had been years ago but to hear the door, practically see it vibrate in its frame had been just as amazing to her as who it was she'd been cussing out at the top of her lungs. It had taken two officers to escort her out. The absurd image of such an elderly woman needing a pair of big burly men to keep her from running back into that room and continuing her verbal scorched earth policy had stayed would stay with Inko for the rest of her life.

And she was considered timid? It made Inko wonder what her great-grandfather was like. And if he was even more timid than his mother…?

"Guess I am," she admitted, pushing an errant tree limb out of the way. "If you're timid then what was the rest of the family like?"

Again, like in the dining room, a light in her grandmother's eyes faded and this time Inko knew for certain it wasn't interest draining away.

"Small and, speaking frankly, foolish. So many brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and mothers and fathers had the worst combination of our curse and personality. The temper and terribly feisty attitude mixed with no discipline whatsoever. No willingness to cultivate any either. Widows and orphans and children buried before their parents was practically in vogue among our line. Beit a war, altercation with police, a barfight, an altercation in prison, or even fights between other family members, things would always start at a dangerous level and then escalate further. There aren't any Midoriya's left beyond the four of us." Her tone was as grave as it was sad. "It's why when you showed none of the signs that I believed there was no point in telling you. You were going to live a safe, happy life with your family. Why worry you with something that never would happen? You did not even confront those who bullied you in school when you were younger and in control of your emotions and actions. You were entirely mild-mannered."

For some odd reason she couldn't explain, Inko found herself growing irritated at that last description. She had no reason to be, it was true. Back when she had been in school in town, there had been a group of girls who were about as delinquent as a small town could expect. Bullies, gossips, and starting the rare fight here and there, she'd somehow found herself in their crosshairs one day. Looking back now, she couldn't even remember any specific thing they'd done to her but…the memories of coming home to Izumi in tears slowly started washing back onto the distant shore of her recollection.

She blinked, surprised by how hard she was clenching her jaw and after taking a moment to remind herself that she shouldn't be upset. Needing to remind herself that it was all in the past bothered her even as she moved to the next question.

"Are our tails really that dangerous?"

"Yes." Her grandmother didn't even hesitate to think as if she knew the question before her granddaughter did. "While I've never seen it myself, plenty of firsthand accounts tell of the danger of looking into the full moon. Heh, bet that's where the werewolf myth came from, now that I think about it."

"So, to avoid it…" Inko left the sentence open, even though she knew where it would lead. The journal was clear about what needed to be done. The answer was uncompromising. "Cut it off. Quickly, do it the wrong way and it will be painful for you both."

She swallowed. "I can't."

Her response brought her grandmother up short, nearly freezing in mid-step before continuing, glancing over with a raised eyebrow.

"I just can't," Inko wilted under the surprising hardness of the stare, however her voice still came strong and firm. Its source was obvious.

The happiness on Izuku's face. His smile and how it just lit up when he first showed off his tail…

The distant horrible dejection he'd had when they'd been in the doctor's office. She didn't want to imagine how much amputating his tail, the single tell of his Quirk, would hurt him and the very idea of such repulsed her so much her stomach swam.

"If it were just me…" She took a deep breath, took care to avoid a stone jutting out in the path for any careless feet and started over. "I can't hurt him like that.

"Inko, you do understand this isn't a 'Quirk' that can simply be controlled. If either of you look into the sky at the wrong time, innocent people could die. On the slim chance you're not taken down or out by the MANY heroes that wouldn't pull any punches to stop you, what next? You say you can't hurt him, but others will."

"Then, we'll figure something out," she snapped, putting her foot down. She'd planned to stop there but the words, emotional painful words, flowed out before she could slam the gates closed. "You didn't see it! Before all this happened, we thought he was Quirkless. Worse, the doctor used the term the same way either of us would say 'useless.' Now, you're telling me that we have to take away the one thing that's made him happier in the last few days than I could've given him with years of support. Lastly, there isn't a courtroom in the county that wouldn't convict me for mutilating him. They'd call it child abuse, or worse, no matter the excuse. Would you take that chance? I know I can't, and I won't."

Face flushed from her short rant, she tried to calm herself down and was finding the task difficult. It was her grandmother's eyes that sobered her thoughts. It wasn't unkind or judgmental, just understanding but unyielding. "If it's between being hated or the lives of my family? Yes. Yes, I would."

Inko felt her hands ball into fists as she tried to find something else to look at other than that frustratingly pleasant supportive expression. "A fat lot of good that attitude did me."

She went cold at the same moment her grandmother gasped. The realization of what she said hit her full on and, looking back to Izumi, saw her smoothly aged features pained. She looked like someone had backhanded her and, in that moment, Inko wished she had. It probably would've been less painful for them both.

"I…Grandma, I didn't- I-I mean…" Her skin prickled with shame at the unfairness of her off the cuff words, the following guilt doubled when Izumi didn't yell or snap something equally harsh back, something Inko wouldn't have blamed her for. Instead her expression cooled to an unreadable flat neutral and, without another word, she spun on her heel and continued to lead the hike up the trail.

It was awhile before anyone spoke. Inko didn't know what she could even say, and her grandmother's silence remained stony.

Even as the path grew steeper and more overgrown with tall grasses and plants, she remained as hushed as a monk and continued uphill with the implacability of a locomotive. Inko did her best not to lag behind, unused to walking on this terrain. The forest was older here, the trees taller, the scrubs and grasses more overgrown. She'd never been this deep back when she was a child.

When the trail leveled out into a wide clearing after an hour, she was more wary than relieved. With all her focus no longer on watching her step, there was nothing to prevent the scolding she knew had to be coming. She braced herself by leaning against a tree to rest as her grandmother moved into the center of the clearing and put the duffle down next to her. The area was large and circular without a patch of tall grass to be seen or any grass for that matter. The dirt was pale brown from the sun exposure, the trees also conspicuously lacking as well.

Izumi's expression was still oddly placid when she turned to face her from the spot she stopped at. "I never told you about how your grandfather, my Takuya, died."

Inko blinked, more speechless than before. If she could've written a list of what she'd expected to be said at this moment, this subject wouldn't have made it to the top 200. Izumi smoothly lowered herself into a lotus position and gestured to the patch of grass before her. Tentatively, she made her way over and sat down, the dirt felt loose under her yet was dry, so it hadn't been disturbed recently.

Only once she was settled, did her grandmother speak. "I've kept the even to myself for a long time because the implications and consequences of that night hurt more than the pain I felt those years ago. Your grandfather was 28 and I was 47 when I was more than 8 months into my pregnancy though I looked more like I was in my early thirties."

Though they were not three full feet away from each other, she felt Izumi's gaze developing a distance, suddenly looking at her from miles away.

"The night my husband died was the same your father was born."

XXX

_'Most…uh, not-meet-in-a-dark alley personality?'_

"That's easy, Endeavor."

_'Really?'_

"Yeah, have you ever talked to the guy?"

Though his partner, Highroad, was talking through a com, Fujiwara also known as Freefall the Magnet Hero, could almost see the shaking head. Nope, just making eye contact is like staring into the sun. Like, look at him long enough and it'll start burning. Especially back in the meeting.

"I'd have picked Eraserhead. That man's gaze tells the world he's already like 99 percent done with everything and is daring you to make it a hundred." The laugh that burst from the hero made him feel better. It didn't last as another third voice broke in over their channel. '_Cut the chatter, both of you. Woof. Word from Endeavor and All Might, Grid 7-A and 7-B clear.'_

Well, speak of the devil.

Fujiwara sighed but kept quiet, only taking a moment to inform that he was still patrolling his grid. "North here, all is normal."

Though the city was bustling, the tension in the summer breeze was a heavy cloak around Freefall's shoulders as he walked his given patrol route and the short break from it was enough to bring his spirit up. The buoy didn't last as he passed a middle-aged couple. He gave them a nod but instead of a wave or recognition of any kind they closed in on each other as if to shield themselves, their arm in arm stroll turning into a hunched quickstep as they picked up their already quick pace into a near jog. Almost every citizen he saw did something similar, be it businesspeople in suits or someone riding their bike. They all were in a hurry to get where they were going and not in the usual 'I've got somewhere to be' hurry but an 'I need to get off the street quick' way. The temperature was unseasonably cool for such a sunny day and added to the gloomy atmosphere.

Even his outfit, a blue and white body suit made to look like a futuristic space suit from a sci-fi felt wrong on his body. Made by the Support staff, it was a carbon nano-weave fiber outfit made into a fabric that hugged his body tight. He was told it could take large caliber bullets and not even leave a bruise. Add in his military-grade metal plated boots, that allowed him to float using his Quirk, Magnet.

But he still felt naked wearing it now. It didn't feel like enough, not when a maniac could pop out from around a corner and fry him before he could sneeze.

Wouldn't be so bad if general crime could take a hint and ease up for a day or two, but nope! Petty crime picked up over the last few days. After all, since when did criminals not take advantage when they thought they could?

As a result, all areas of the city were on high alert. Police were practically on every corner where heroes weren't patrolling, which was a large area as everyone was spread thin.

Split in rows from A to Z and columns from 1 to 7, the city had been divided among pairs of heroes that were strictly given patrol routes no further than a block from each other. Combined with constant checks with each other every 2 minutes and five with HQ, there was no reason anyone should be caught with their pants down.

So, one could've been forgiven a bit of chat on the line. Fujiwara didn't know Highroad very well, at least not well enough to know his name. So, what would be the harm in chatting with his partn-?

The hero paused as he glided past an alley, the clink of glass against something hard was like a firework to his ears in spite of the noise around him. His section, D-3, was a much older part of the business district and while these narrow lanes were common enough, few were as shaded and unlit as this one. He gazed down it, suddenly distinctly aware of how much shadow was down there. Trash bags were piled next to a dumpster about halfway down, deep enough that most of the rest of the alley couldn't be seen from this side.

The faint sour waft of garbage swatted his nose as he slowly made his way, carefully angling himself so that the darkest spots, big enough for a man to hide in, were in plain sight. Hands raised, Quirk edged to action like a finger teasing the trigger of a gun, Fuijuwara listened carefully as he made his way in. It was only when he was more than a fourth of the way to the dumpster that he realized he wouldn't been seen from the street and if anything happened.

He was about to reach for his com to report in when the clinking sound was made again. Hand frozen halfway to his ear, he frowned against the chill running along his skin. What should he do now? If it was the villain, he knew that anything he said would alert him to his presence and he wasn't confident he would win the fight that certainly would follow. If he didn't…he'd be alone against a murderer who the Americans hadn't been able to catch.

Another rattle and then – a yowl nearly made him fire. A small shadow shape popped out of the dumpster and he jumped as the black cat flew through his legs as if fired by a kitty cannon. He watched as it paused to turn, hiss angrily at him, then continued its scramble to another alley across the street. The reason for its takeoff became clear as another and much larger gray tabby, hopped out the garbage with a clatter of glass and rustle of paper and strutted away in the other direction.

With a relieved laugh, Fujiwara took a second to shake out his arms to stop the trembling that had started and was about to press his com to tell Highroad what just happened, with maybe some embellishment on him not making a noise like a five-year-old girl that just got a spider dropped on her face when the com snapped to life.

'_Woof. Freefall, get to the next block. Now. Highroad is overdue and he's not responding.'_

The hero felt his stomach start freefalling itself. He didn't ask questions, only sprinted full speed to where the other hero should've been.

He found Highroad in an alley similar to the one he'd just left, his black and yellow costume soaked with blood from wound in his back. He called for backup immediately as he turned the man over on his side, not noticing when he did, the manhole cover the man was sprawled next to slid more firmly into place from shifting man's weight against it.

XXX

Inko felt her heart stutter in her chest. The weight of her grandmother's words dropping on her like a stone from above.

"It was November 5th, a Tuesday and one of the coldest fall days on record. It was like winter had come overnight. Let me tell you, going to bed and then waking up at 6 in the morning to nearly a foot of snow was…quite an experience. It was bad enough in the city but where we were, at his parents' house in the mountains…" Her grandmother paused staring off, the distance of memory clearly not having dulled the event in her mind. "It was bad. The power went out, the roads were damn near impassible and it was just the two of us. His parents were caught in the city overnight. I can't even remember why they left."

"It had been a family holiday. He'd gotten time off work and I was getting restless in our home back in Kyoto. We both thought a fall retreat into the countryside would do us some good." Inko watched as Izumi took in a long deep breath as if bracing to lift a heavy load. "We'd planned to wait it out. It wasn't our first time being snowed in, after all. But that snow… it was the first in a row of dominos. My water breaking was the finger that pushed it."

The younger woman could help but wince at that but said nothing. It was a story being told and not the right moment for asking questions. "Something had gone seriously wrong. I'd been feeling twinges in my belly only minutes before it happened and there was blood in it. A scary amount. The contractions were even worse." A shudder ran through her grandmother and her hand drifted to her midsection as if she was feeling it right now. "It was like someone was trying to carve out my belly with a knife. Takuya had to make a decision. He wouldn't leave me alone in an empty house to brave the storm on the off chance he could bring back a neighbor for help and going all the way down the mountain was off the table, the roads were closed. There was a doctor who lived a little ways away so, with some effort we both got into the car and tried to get there. It took so long. I could barely walk straight, it hurt so bad."

At first, Inko wanted to say why didn't they just stay but that was more of an off the cuff urge than anything. She wondered what Hisashi and her would've done in the same situation. What could they have done? Isolated with no power, the baby is on its way and she's bleeding and the contractions are agony. What actual choice was there but to leave? If it were Izuku's life on the line…

"We didn't make it. We managed to get out on the roads easily enough but there was some driving in between. A 15-minute drive turned dangerous. My Takuya was a sensible man, I know he knew very well the risk he took with our lives. A desperate risk for a desperate moment. I don't think I'd have been able to talk him down even if I'd had the capacity to think straight." Another shudder followed dewy eyes, and Izumi heaved in another sigh, clearly trying to keep it together.

Inko reached out and put a hand over her grandmother's and felt a fragility so unnatural that it shocked her. Izumi's hands trembled like leaves and her fingers were almost like thin twigs compared to her own. For the first time, she actually looked her age. They stayed like that for a while until she nodded, ready to continue.

"I never saw what actually happened, my eyes were shut. Something hit the car. Hard. I was told later that the weight of the snow had triggered a landslide further up the mountain and had buried a few houses before it reached us. All I knew at the time was that it felt like the whole car had been picked up and tossed aside like a toy down some stairs. It was too much for me. I passed out. When I finally came to it was dark and cold. The windows had been shattered and snow had blown into the car. It had landed several hundred yards down the mountain side and was pinned against a tree. My dear Takuya…I didn't even need to check. He was gone."

Grief hollowed out her voice and spoke so softly yet so clearly in the mid-morning breeze, the sorrow in her eyes made Inko's chest hurt. "I gave birth to your father next to the dead body of his. I was bleeding, cold, dizzy, and was cradling my baby as close to myself as I could to keep him warm."

The horror of that last statement mixed with confusion in Inko's mind and she finally found her voice. "How did…I mean, good god. If…"

"We should've died." Izumi confirmed. "We spent a whole night exposed to the worst blizzard nature conceived." Her grandmother raised her arm between them, palm up and like a magic trick, a green glowing ball no bigger than a marble sprang into existence above her hand. Before her eyes, Inko watched open mouthed as it hovered steadily. "This is one of the gifts of the curse. I'd learned it from the journal though my skill in it even now is barely above novice level. Our ancestors called it Aura or Magic, but the most common term shared among most is Ki." The ball flickered and died. "I used this to keep us alive in that coffin. For hours. When we were finally rescued…it was everything I could do to stay awake."

Slowly, Izumi closed her hand and stood up and Inko instinctively got to her feet as well.

"In the hospital, they told me the cold kept me from bleeding out but by all rights, I should've lost the baby. They called him a miracle." She stated evenly, making her way over to the duffle bag and rummaging through it, pulling out an old karate gi. Without any warning or preamble, she began to strip off her clothes, kicking off her shoes first. Between the story and this 'Ki' thing, her mind was whirling and just when Inko thought there couldn't be any more surprises, her eyes went wide at the sight of her grandmother.

Before she'd thought Izumi was just slim in that healthy way that came from diligent exercise and diet when one became elderly. The wiry tightly muscled back that met her eyes could've come from a female fitness fanatic a quarter of her age.

Quickly, she turned her back to give her some kind of privacy but not fast enough to miss the brown nubby stump right at the base of her back as she raised her shirt.

"Your tail?" Inko blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Yes. It grew while I was in the hospital. I cut it off myself. Badly."

It took her a moment but suddenly Izumi's comment from before, about removing the tail the wrong way, made sense. "Was it painful?" Her own tail twitched, reminding her of its existence.

"Unbelievably so. I made the mistake of trying to use Takuya's buzz saw. It took three tries to cut through it, two of which was simply because I'd aimed wrong and only cut part way."

That made Inko spin back around. "What?!"

Her grandmother paused in the middle of tying the belt around her waist, giving her an odd look as if her being shocked at not only sawing off a limb but trying again two more times was quite unreasonable. "What?"

"You…You just…" Spluttering, she closed her eyes to gather her thoughts and then opened them. "Why not get it surgically removed?"

"Because such a surgery was elective, at best. And, by the time I'd finally gotten around to it, my financial situation wasn't good." Izumi finished knotting the belt as she spoke. "Takuya's insurance barely covered the funeral and he didn't qualify for any kind of pension at his job. I had to sell the house we'd bought together and move into a tiny apartment. His parents spared what they could but were living off of their own retirement and my own family…wasn't on speaking terms with me."

"But…you're…" This was her first-time hearing anything like that and then another small detail bloomed into a larger picture. The pictures she'd seen on the walls, in the study, save for the one that was face down on the mantle, there had been none with their family. Art, sure? Framed antiques, plenty. But not a single picture of anyone her grandmother had even hinted at being related. Inko hesitantly switched gears, suddenly more nervous than ever. "But you told me about your father-"

"Who was the only one left who gave me even the time of day after what happened. Put only me in his will and when he died a year 'bouts after my husband, to everyone's shock, he apparently had an excellent eye for investments. The man was a millionaire but lived like he was scraping by." She said, her green eyes flashing as she glared hard to the side. If looks could kill, several trees would've vaporized into sawdust by now. "But it wasn't the money that drove a wedge between the few bits of extended family left. That came later."

Inko didn't realize she was clutching at the hem of her shirt until a stitched popped. Winding her fingers free, she watched Izumi start to roll her shoulders then moving to stretch her arms. "It was the journal he left me as well. There is only one of its kind and your great-grandfather didn't give it to me for no reason nor did his mother give it to him."

"Why?" Mentally, she was scrambling trying to keep up with everything.

"Because we were a little more and a little less in the right ways." Her Grandmother explained, shifting from foot to foot and stretching her toes out in the dirt. "A little more patient, a little less cruel. A little more kind, a little less uninhibited. Can you imagine some nasty piece of work with our curse and the knowledge to use it? Especially before the days of Quirks? Sure, maybe in the mid-1900s and back someone could get away with being stronger than a normal human. Heck, making glowing balls of light might have gotten you crowned as a god in ancient times." She grunted, bending at the waist and touching her toes. "But there were plenty... No, there were so _many_ bad apples in our long family tree and modern times forced us to change. Eventually, someone made the decision that maybe teaching power to the less sensible was a bad idea. Soon every child born in the family was closely observed by the journal owner at the time, both direct and extended, and judged not only by their behavior but how their parents raised them. More than a few feelings were hurt when the decision was made."

At first, Inko thought the idea a little paranoid but it didn't take her long to see the sense of it. In fact, the crystal-clear logic of it brought a thought to her mind that hammered an icy nail into her heart and brain at the same time. "Does _he_ know about the journal?

Her grandmother froze in the middle of another stretch. "No, he doesn't. I wasn't inclined to tell him for the same reasons I never told you. He didn't show any aggression or even willingness to fight."

The tiny well of panic that built in Inko's chest was fanned away like a guttering candle at those words. Her father didn't show aggression? Where was that apparent docility when she was growing up? She and her mother could've- She shook her head to derail that train of thought. Okay, time to change the subject. "So, what are you doing?"

"'bout time you asked." Izumi's eyes crinkled at the corners, her warm smile finally back on her face. "We're going to have a match."

Silence. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Heh," she stood, done limbering up and faced Inko full on. Her karate Gi, as old and faded as it looked, fit her body well. The sleeves weren't loose but tight on her arms, trousers relaxed but not billowing, and the cuffs ended right at the ankle where it wouldn't catch her feet. "You are going to fight me, Inko." With a sharp exhale, she snapped into a guard. She raised her right hand, fingers together as if ready to gesture her closer, and tucked her left arm behind her back reminding Inko of a fencer in some movie she'd seen. The movement in between had been so fast that Inko heard the fabric crack like a flag in a storm.

It was that sound which brought her out of the stunned silence. "I-I can't fight you, Grandma."

"Sure you can."

It was such a simple answer, said in such a matter of fact tone, Inko was starting to wonder if she'd finally lost it and all the shocks she'd gotten had finally turned her loopy. She wasn't allowed to entertain the idea for even a moment as Izumi kept going. "I know you don't know how to fight. I wouldn't expect you to, but I did take some time to talk with my great-grandson. He wants to be a hero, that much is obvious and you're going to train him or, at least, with him."

"How did…"

"It's what I'd do in your place, Inko. Now put them up. I want you to really get a feel of what you're going to need to teach him, what you'll need to learn."

Coming to the conclusion that she didn't have much a choice, she raised her hands hesitantly and closed them into fists and tried to ignore the fiery thrill that suddenly shot a tingle up her spine. "Okay, I guess I'm-"

She blinked, and suddenly she was looking at the bottom of her grandmother's foot stopped from a range of about two inches from her nose. It was then her body reacted, twitching back out of the way of a blow that would've certainly connected but, unbalanced, she fell instead of dodged and landed hard on her rear.

Her grandmother remained like that.

Izumi didn't follow up her lightning attack like Inko would've expected, instead watching her as she scrambled back to her feet in a cloud of dust and dirt. Her grandmother lowered her raised leg, smooth as silk, with a concentrated sharpness to her face. "I know you don't know how to fight. That requires technique, and technique needs training, practice, and so on. It's something you'll have more interest in moving forward."

Another snapping of cloth as she ducked slightly, tucking herself into a boxer's stance.

Inko quickly raised her arms again to protect herself. Instead of attacking though, again unlike what she was expecting, Izumi's fists blurred as she started to shadow box the air frighteningly quick. Her sleeves flapped, arms whipping through the air in a combination of punches that were felt more than seen and her over-a-hundred-year-old grandmother continued to speak as if during a light stroll. "But that's not for me to teach. You and Izuku can find more martial arts teachers in the city than you can shake a stick at. I know myself too well, I'd be an awful instructor and for the love of- Close your mouth, dear. You'll catch flies that way."

Inko clicked her jaw shut, but couldn't stop staring as the last jab brought with it a breeze that tickled her cheeks. The force of which would've laid out a champ MMA fighter, she was certain.

"Hah." Izumi breathed out steadily and bringing her arms in at her sides, not seeming the least bit winded. "I'm going to teach you the feel of combat."

"The feel?" Before she could ask what the difference was, though her voice long since went numb from the sheer weight of the improbable sight she'd just witnessed, Izumi cut her off.

"I'm going to attack now. Do keep up."

"Wha- Wait!"

SMACK.

The sound was like a firecracker following as Izumi's leg met Inko's forearms.

The reasons she managed to block the roundhouse aimed at her neck were twofold. She already had her guard up, as slack as it had gotten, and Izumi so telegraphed the kick she made and where it was going that Inko didn't need much time to think. However, blocking it didn't change the amount of power behind it. Somehow, she managed to keep her feet after feeling like someone had thrown a table at her.

But if that simple attack was her grandmother going easy on her, which Inko suspected considering the speed she'd just seen, the kid gloves were off from then on in.

CRA-BANG!

The follow up punch was fast, so impossibly fast that the only reason Inko even knew what happened was because suddenly her grandmother's knuckles were the center in a smoking crater, shards of wood and bark standing out around it like a weird halo. No, not smoke. Thin wisps of steam flowed around Izumi's hand, wafting into the air.

She could only stare open mouthed in shock as he realized that the bang she heard wasn't from the impact but that her grandmother had hit the tree behind her so hard and so fast that the water at the point of contact had exploded.

No sooner had it sunk in just WHAT her grandmother had just done, Izumi turned into a whirlwind and Inko, being tossed around the clearing barely able to keep up, felt like a piece of paper at its mercy.

Batted all over, her bewilderment at the woman who raised her was matched only by a growing frustration at the pointlessness of her attempts to fight back.

She never got the chance to see the blows coming or going. A tap to her ribs here, a breath of air past her chin there, every block was turned aside or threaded through, any dodge was too slow, and she didn't even think about countering.

She had to force herself to keep her eyes open for what little good it did her. Soon, she was baring her teeth against another invisible flurry, which walked light taps up her left side.

Then finally, she punched. It was when a kick stung her ear as it passed. It wasn't a good punch, sloppy and poorly thrown, she still managed to brush Izumi's cheek with her knuckles.

Eyes shining, her grandmother's assault stopped.

"You saw it."

It wasn't a question but Inko, slumping to her knees, breathless and heart hammering, nodded anyway. For the barest fraction of a second, she'd seen…not quite an opening but a path of some sort, opening before her squinting eyes and acted without thinking. Without knowing what it was.

Actually, that wasn't quite it. She couldn't put a word to it. It was a deep inward recognition beyond her vocabulary to identify.

As Izumi leaned down and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder, what she said was better than anything Inko could've cobbled together as worn down as she was. "That, child. That is combat. Our family has a nose for it, a nerve in our brain that goes off like a firecracker and helps us see those opportunities to strike." And with that, she let out an easy sigh and stood. "Alright, now I'll show you how to throw a decent punch before we start heading back."

_Hours later…_

The walk down to the house went by in a numb haze of one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. All the aches and injuries from yesterday conspired to remind her vividly of their presence, throbbing and pulsing and making her feet feel raw. Yet there was an ease in her body and mind now. Like a crick in her neck had just been popped or an itch had just been scratched. She felt better now than she had in days.

Her grandmother was no exception, dressed back in her regular clothes. A lightness had taken over her as she helped Inko stumble her way down the trail.

They had gone at it pretty much all day. It was evening and by now the forest was thrown into a twilight half-life. Bright enough to travel the narrow paths by, but dark enough to inform the both of them not to linger.

She was pleased to see the house still standing when they arrived, Izuku, having seen them coming in from the window, sprinted away on his short legs to meet them. "Hey! Mommy! I figured something out!"

"Oh, what is that?

Reaching the porch, her little boy then said the most incredible thing she'd ever heard as he slid to a stop on the dewy grass. Still, thinking she was numb to surprises after all this, made it perfect for her to be blindsided by the sentence that flew from Izuku's lips.

She blinked and gazed over to Izumi who, by her wide eyes, told that she also couldn't believe her ears, before looking back down to her four-year-old's wide innocent smile, hands clenched into tiny determined fists. "Izuku…honey," she hesitantly began, still not quite sure and needing confirmation. "What do you mean by that?"

Her son tilted his head as if she wasn't making sense now. "I mean, I wanna fight All Might!" He declared, throwing his arms up in the air so that there was no reason for confusion.

"That's what I thought you said," Inko then looked at her grandmother, who offered her a nervous smile.

And then the world tips as Inko fainted.

XXX

Packing on Sunday morning didn't take too long. After breakfast and another few minutes of Izumi and her convincing Izuku that she was indeed okay after her fainting spree, she was back in her bedroom with her suitcase at her feet. While she was busy folding up the last of her clothes, Inko could faintly hear Izumi and Izuku speaking to one another downstairs. Their actual conversation was little more than muted mumbles of sound, but there was a sense of saddened happiness about the words. No doubt both of them were feeling somewhat unhappy at having their time together cut short. Izumi rarely got to interact with her great-grandson and Izuku seemed to love the vast amount of open area he could play in.

Finally clicking her suitcase closed, Inko hefted it up but paused when she saw the family journal still resting benignly upon the bedside table. With considerable hesitancy, she carefully grabbed the book and tucked it under her arm before leaving her room, suitcase in tow.

"—all the strongest Heroes!" Izuku was cheering loudly from where he stood by the door with Izumi. His face was lit up like a beacon as he grinned widely up at his great-grandmother, who wore a soft smile upon her own face.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll definitely try," Izumi said in a consoling manner, gently resting her hand upon his small shoulder. "Just remember to not try _too hard_ or they might think you're actually a Villain."

"_No way!_" Izuku cried, eyes shooting open in horror at the mere thought of it. "I'd _never_ do that!"

"Well, they might not be so sure," Izumi pointed out. "So, make sure you keep yourself _under control_ and that they understand _why_ you're fighting, okay?"

"Okay," Izuku agreed, pouting slightly still, but with a look of understanding in his eyes.

"Good boy," Izumi acknowledged, patting his head lovingly. Turning, she locked her gaze upon Inko's as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs. "Got everything you need?" Inko easily noticed her glance at the journal before her grandmother shot her a relieved look.

"Everything that I need, yes," Inko said, nodding slightly.

Beckoning Izuku, she moved out of the house and towards the car. Izuku groaned slightly as he pulled himself into his car seat, but Inko was more focused on hefting her suitcase and the journal into the trunk. Obscured by the raised car trunk, Izumi reached over and caught Inko's arm lightly as she was about to close it. The look in her eyes as Inko met her gaze was one of unbending steel. "The next full moon is in 10 days. You have until that time to figure out what you're going to do about them. Make sure it's a choice you can _live with_, even if it's one you and Izuku _don't like_."

For just a moment, Inko held Izumi's stare, her own gaze hardening in return to match her grandmother. Then, with the barest of movement, she nodded slowly. Seeing that, Izumi released her grip and stepped forward, embracing her granddaughter in a strong but loving hug. "Be safe, dear. And make sure Izuku stays safe too."

"I'll do my best," Inko answered, likewise hugging Izumi.

"Your best is all I can ask of you." And with that said, Izumi released her and stepped back. A sad look crossed her face as she watched her descendants get into the car and pull away from her home.

Inko wasn't sure how to feel as the trees closed in around the driveway, finally hiding the house from view like a curtain closing. She felt grateful to her Grandmother, sure. But there was some part of her, a tiny part, that wished she'd never had to learn what she did.

That final reminder didn't help either. 10 days sounded like plenty of time, until the thought of what would happen if she missed the deadline.

She couldn't help a slightly sour chuckle. This must've been what people who borrowed money from loan sharks felt like. 'Better have it together soon or bad things will happen.' Then she thought to the journal and didn't think about much else for a while.

Soon the time began to crawl as the miles of road stretched before her. It didn't help that her attention on anything but the leather-bound mountain of responsibility in the trunk. It felt like it would curdle like a pint of milk left in the sun. She'd tried to distract herself any way she could. The radio, calculating the groceries she was going to need to buy soon, counting the number of blue cars going the opposite way. By the time the 36th sedan was more than 15 minutes behind, it was lunchtime.

Pulling off the freeway and parking in front of the first diner she saw, Inko didn't realize she'd popped the trunk until she had the journal in her hands. Her curiosity didn't even allow her to wait before they went inside, Izuku leading the way as she began to flip through the pages. She barely even looked up from them to acknowledge the waiter as he led them to an empty table.

At first, she was focused mainly on finding a crash course of sorts on Ki. But, again, the deadline reared its head in her mind, menacing her with its clear threat. A reminder in the same vein of her husband's cold absence, a hole burrowing in the center of her chest and sinking her heart deeper into despair. Could she do this? If she messed this up, it wouldn't just be her neck on the line. Maybe cutting off Izuku's tail would be the lesser of two evils? Maybe-

It was lucky coincidence that Izuku had the menu blocking his vision and the waiter had just turned away to get them some water because the intense look that crossed Inko's face would've been unsettling to say the least. The woman didn't just cut off that train of thought. She killed the doubt. Dead. Mentally slicing off its head, burning the remains, and burying what was left deep in her subconscious.

No.

She'd fought Izumi on this. She told her grandmother she'd find another way and, by God, she'd do it.

It was a matter of seconds to find her great-grandfather's section. Right behind Izumi's part, his handwriting was a flowing calligraphy compared to his daughter's exact print. Quickly, she skimmed that pages not knowing what she was looking for but searching hard anyway. Mayb-

"Ma'am?"

Inko jolted visibly as she was torn out of her musings mid-page, twitching her head up to the uncertain looking waiter. "Yes?"

"I-uh, w-what will you be having?" He stammered.

Realizing that she hadn't so much as looked at the menus this whole time and also realizing that she was too hungry to care, she glanced in her son's direction. "You've taken his order?"

"Well, yes but-"

"Then I'll have the same."

It took some time to convince the waiter – then the manager – but having dealt with this type of thing before gave her a general map of what to say to hurry things along. Prepaying helped, lunch rush or no.

Still, it did take her away from the journal longer than she wanted. Right as she about to start thumbing the pages, though, a section of a sentence screamed for her attention, the messy scribbles were an ink scar across the paper, compared to the neat flowing characters she'd seen to this point. Like it was hurriedly scrawled down with an unsteady hand.

—_could've killed everyone. _

Smoothing out the slightly ruffled page, she started reading from the top.

_January 5th,_

_I am an idiot. That's the only reason why I did something so stupid. It has to be. I could've killed everyone. I should've cut off my tail when it had grown back long before now. That'll be fixed tonight._

_January 6th _

_I'm in a better state of mind now to write. I still don't know why I risked it. Staying out late the night of a full moon, but I did. A short drive to the store made longer by unexpected traffic and all that, but that's beside the point. I've discovered something. At least I think I have._

_Maybe tinted glass or something as such can prevent what the moon does to us. Like protecting your eyes from the sun. But I'm only guessing here. Don't think that anyone's gonna be willing to roll that dice._

_The only reason why I'm even putting it down is because I can't think what else pulled my dumb behind out the fire yesterday. I caught sight of the moon full on from my car in the middle of town with my tail and __DIDN'T__ change! The windshield is tinted, so it has to be that. If not that, then it was only the grace of any god that was happening by at the time that I didn't hurt anyone._

_I can no longer test my theory, but I wouldn't want to even if I could._

Those words followed Inko for the rest of the trip. The massive meal was eaten in relative silence with her barely tasting the food. She put on the best mask she could manage with her son through the meal and as they hit the freeway again. To keep herself from temptation, she put the journal back in the trunk, burying it deep in her suitcase under some clean spare clothes. Soon, they were close enough that the city's skyline dominated the horizon.

As if someone somewhere had flipped the switch, the light traffic suddenly became unusually heavy. It started to slow down at first, a few cars including her driving under the speed limit a few miles at a time and over time going slower and slower for longer periods until all three lanes of the freeway were packed in bumper-to-bumper.

"Mommy, what's going on?"

"I don't know, dear," but she suspected nothing good or at least nothing positive. Her suspicions proved correct. The police had set up checkpoint for entering the city as well as exiting along this part of the freeway and they were checking cars thoroughly, waving them through after inspecting them closely.

They inspected them so thoroughly, in fact, that it had to been nearly an hour and a half before her turn came and another 15 minutes before she was waved through. She wasn't happy that it added extra time to an already long drive and was even more sour the sun had gone down when she finally had the checkpoint behind her.

Yet her initial irritation faded to worry when she started to realize what that likely meant: the killer was still on the loose.

After three long days of searching.

She didn't feel relieved by the much lighter traffic after the checkpoints. And though she got to the familiar multistory garage in record time for this part of the city, cold knots twisted in her stomach. Pulling up to the booth, she couldn't help but start at the even more familiar face in the lit booth. It was the same young woman she'd met the first time and from the nod the younger woman gave as she pulled up and parked, she remembered her as well.

She stood from her small seat and bowed as Inko got out of the car.

"How was your weekend, ma'am?"

"Just fine." Inko replied, going to the back seat and opening up the door. "Izuku." She gently urged, taking one of his shoulders and gently shaking him. He'd fallen asleep at some point and groaned a little as his sleep was disturbed.

"Mom," he pouted with a look of such childish annoyance that she couldn't help but laugh which only made him pout harder and in turn, she laughed harder. It took away some of the unease stirring in her mind and filled her with a fresh energy that she'd thought drained out of her by the absurdly long wait in traffic and quickly dimming light of the evening. "Not funny." He said, crossing his arms.

Getting a hold of herself with a few last chuckles, she undid the seatbelt and started to scoop him into her arms. "Come on, let's get you out of the car."

The boy tried to wiggle out of her grip but Inko held fast. To her mild surprise, her little boy's objection to being handled wasn't against being woken up but being picked up. "Lemme do it! I can walk!" With a raised eyebrow as he never complained about this before, she let him down almost exactly where he'd been, stepped back and watched as he determinedly began scooting – dragging his little frame rump first across the long plush leather seats by using his tail as another limb to pull himself to the exit.

Gaze anchored for the spot of asphalt before the door, he hopped outdoor and landing with both feet stood at an almost soldier like attention with his chest puffed out and shoulders back. Before a thoroughly confused Inko could even ask what that was about, Izuku, marching like a little soldier, made for the back of the car.

The trunk was designed to automatically open at a touch when the car was stationary and parked so Inko wasn't surprised when it opened. It only clicked what exactly her son was doing when he grabbed at one of the suitcases, hers in fact, that a warmth filled her chest.

"Honey, you don't need to do that I can– " She stepped forward but was quickly waved away by a hand and another look that was as resolute as it was humorous to see on his round face. However, his words made her heart leap a little as he yanked the luggage up and out. "I am here, mommy." He decreed sitting it down and going for the next.

Speechless, Inko allowed him to continue and turned back to the woman who was looking as impressed as she was.

"That is quite a son you have."

"He is." Inko agreed with the nod. "I…uhm…yes, I'm returning the car?"

The woman went to all business, the composure of a polite employee returning like nothing happened. "Okay, allow me to check the car, update its current status, and…"

The ringing of a phone cut her off and the two women both glanced to the booth where a wireless telephone was hooked easily seen through the windowed door. The light on it wasn't blinking.

Another ring.

Even the woman seemed to be confused before Izuku pointed from where he was at to car, just done pulling his own suitcase out. "It's coming from there."

Inko looked to see her son was right. While he wouldn't have been able to see it from his angle, she could. The orange blinking light in the backseat center armrest was like a match in the dark. A car phone. Of course, a car like this would have that.

"Excuse me a moment." Leaving the door open behind her, she slid into the backseat and saw the receiver had a lock on it to keep it in place.

She froze, fingers hovering above the release button. Did she dare hope? 'But who else but her husband would know the number to a car phone in a car he owned?' was the answer her mind provided.

Another ring and with it, a second thought. Did she want to talk to him? That question unlocked the floodgates and threw them wide open, every heart aching, teeth grinding worry and fear she'd pushed away this whole time spilled out. Forget 'what would he say?' What could he say?! Nothing since the attack, not a peep from him for days and now, somehow, he knew that she was using the car? Who told him? And if they told him she was using the car, did he know why? Better yet: was there really any excuse, short of being hospitalized himself, good enough for her?

Not being able to answer that didn't help her make up her mind. If it wasn't, would hurt less? If it was, would it hurt more? With the opposite be true? And what if he lied? It's not like she'd be able to verify it. Would she be able to suss it out right away and what would she do if she did? Taking solace in a comfortable lie seemed just as appealing as demanding a harsh truth, at the moment.

With so much dread in her heart that it felt ready to burst, she pressed a finger down on the release and, after a deep breath, put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she said, just in time to hear the other end click. Disconnected.

Inko knew that if she didn't put the phone down she would crush it. It wasn't anger that swept through her but it wasn't despair either, only some calm middle ground in a storm. The eye of a mental hurricane gently slipping over her and draining her self-control and bolstering it an equal measure. Putting the receiver back in the slot, she moved out of the car and shut the door. She wanted to… Wanted to… She didn't know what she wanted to do but, dammit, she'd do it when she found time!

With a sigh, she let go as much of it as she could then smiled as she spoke to the garage employee. "Please, take your time."

By now, Izuku was pulling the suitcases around and stop next to her, standing straight. "Ready, Mom."

She patted him on the head. "Good job. Think you can handle all that on the walk home?"

A determined nod was his answer.

The employee's meticulous work was done smoothly and efficiently, taking measurements checking gauges and everything. Inko had to guess that the woman was used to it since she herself had no clue about half the things that were being examined. Maybe she should? Taking some time to learn the mechanics within didn't sound so bad. In fact –

Her musings stopped, cut off by a metallic grinding like a heavyweight being dragged across stone. She looked around, the garage entrance was right in the middle of a wide and decently lit alley of sorts. Save for a few flickering lights, she could see clearly from one end to the other without much trouble which was why she noticed a manhole cover being moved aside. Still too far away to see details, it was clear that it was being lifted from underneath since there was no one else but them in the alley. With the car between them and the distant manhole, her curiosity kept her eyes focused on the odd sight. The woman who was on the other side of the car, checking tire pressure had her back to it and obviously didn't hear anything. But from the way he was still looking around, Izuku heard the sound but was too short to look over the roof of the car like she could.

So Inko was able to easily watch as a man pulled himself up and out of the manhole with obvious difficulty. Even from this distance, he looked haggard. His clothes dripping and his movements unsteady. Normally, she might've called over to ask if he was okay but something stopped her. A serious unease crawled over her skin.

The strange man seemed familiar in a way that made her want to leave right that moment.

"Miss?" She hissed, trying to keep her voice calm but quiet as the man didn't seem to notice them yet as he wrung out his clothes.

The woman didn't respond as she moved to the last tire. Inko looked down at her son who seemed to catch on to her mood. "Stay quiet and don't move." She instructed, quickly stepping around the trunk of the car as softly as she could. The woman was just standing up from her crouch as Inko reached her.

She opened her mouth but a wave from Inko stopped her. "We need to leave. Now." she whispered, her glance drifting over to the figure. He'd just finished twisting one sleeve and moved to the other.

The woman frowned before her gaze followed Inko's and she looked ready to argue when a clatter from where the man was caught the attention of both.

The man had started twisting the hem of his hoodie and a knife had fallen out of one his pockets, the metallic gleam sharp in the evening light. He turned and bent to pick it up, his head snapping around to them as he realized they were there. The garage employee no longer seemed willing to argue the point, her face going the color of milk. Inko still couldn't see the man's face clearly but there was a sudden intent coming off of him in waves.

Gripping the handle of the knife, Inko watched and dawning horror as familiar blue -white sparks flashed across the blade.

"Run!" She shouted. There was no point in stealth. She grabbed the woman and yanked her around to the other side. Not a second too late, a blue ball of energy crashed where a woman had been standing, sending the rear of the car sliding around to bang off of Inko's side. She stumbled, catching herself on the booth and shouted again at Izuku this time, who seemed frozen as he too figured out what was happening. Before Inko could move, the woman, bless her, scooped up Izuku and began sprinting off down the alley.

She began to follow but another blast slammed against the car swinging it around like a door on a hinge, smashing the tail into the booth and throwing her to the ground in a spray of glass. Scrambling to her feet as fast she could, she saw the car had been pushed all the way around and now left her exposed. There was nothing but clear space between her and the man who tried to kill her in that store. It couldn't be anyone else.

The hood was thrown back by the concussive force of the villain's Quirk and showed his face to her for the first time.

Up until now, Inko had never once given thought to what her attacker looked like under the mask he'd worn when they first ran into each other. Her focus had been on escape and, in the hospital, the shock he was still at large.

His startlingly young face, framed by a matted mop of blonde hair, was twisted into a predatory grimace of a smile as he bore down on her. His eyes practically gleaming in anticipation, he came towards her with long but unhurried strides like he was casually coming over to greet her.

She planned to vault over the car and, with the booth right against a concrete wall, knowing there was no time to run around it.

No sooner had she begun to move then the man twitched the knife to the left and fired. The cracking bolt slammed through the windshield, bouncing the heavy sedan like it was on hydraulics, and setting the leather seats alight as if doused in oil.

Heat hammering, Inko moved for the only immediate exit available to her: the garage. The knife twitched again as she threw herself up the ramp, the blast passing so close she could feel the tingle against her back and the following heat as the booth blew apart and, unknown to either present at the time, shattering the controls to pieces and sending the inner workings of the garage whirring to life.

The BOOM as the car exploded nearly knocked her clean off her feet and as she flopped against the wall, she felt the concrete of the structure tremble under her hands and forcing her to take in the massive puzzle of mechanics before her eyes.

Someone with a Quirk or a genius of engineering must've built this place because it was massive. Cars of all types and kinds stood in swing like cradles or on parking spot-sized platforms, all of which were moving in complex patterns that made her dizzy to even glance at. The vehicles were passing within inches of each other, going up and down, slotting in place just to be pulled out just as quickly like the garage couldn't make up its mind where things belonged. But not one car ever touched another. There was one moment where she was certain a yellow car, some Italian wedge-shaped thing in a cradle shaped metallic sling would smash into a white limo as one rose slowly while the other was crossing from right to left quite quickly. Yet they missed each other without either slowing or stopping to make way.

Pushing herself off the wall, she charged inside, glancing over her shoulder and seeing nothing but smoke and flames at the entrance. Turning back around, she barely ducked a red sports car swinging by and was thrown to the hard metal grate floor as what turned out to be a platform jerked suddenly and started sliding to the left along a set of rails. She only could guessed that this was supposed to be her platform for the wreckage that was now burning and billowing smoke inside the structure.

The man stepped through it and looked around slowly before seeing her, just as the platform she was on clanged to a stop. He raised the knife like a sharpshooter taking aim just as the platform jerked again and began to rise. Inko could see the blast pass under her through the grate. There was another clang and the breaking of glass, causing her to look up in time to see a blue ball of energy bounce through the window of a passing SUV and fizz out. As soon as the obstruction between her and him cleared, she pressed her body down low, expecting another volley.

He was gone.

No, she corrected herself quickly. The dark cloud pouring in was quickly obstructing any view of him she might've caught. The bright white neon of the lights, turning the cloud gray as it passed over them. Soon, the whole quickly disappearing first level looked more and more like a fog was rolling in. It gave the whole place the impression of something unnatural closing off her escape, colluding with the man – no, the murderer – who wanted her dead. She knew it was absurd to think that way, but she couldn't help it! The fleeting idea that some unknown evil or malevolent thing was assisting this monster in tracking her and her son down was so much easier to comprehend than that she, after everything that had gone on and what she'd gone through, was unlucky enough to run into him again, that it was pure coincidence he crawled out of a manhole like some yokai out of a myth in this one place.

Another jerk and clang and the platform stopped moving. To her relief, there was a walkway of sorts right where she'd stopped. Things were already bad enough without her being stuck at least five stories up without a way down. Easing herself slowly onto the catwalk, she tried to take stock of her situation. What was she going to do? What was she going to do? She couldn't stay here and risk being found but she didn't know this place, any hiding spot that she might find could potentially killer with all the moving parts the garage is made of but if she didn't do something– She closed her eyes, breathed in deep, and let her fear go. This was the time to think critically. If she lost her mind to panic then she would be a dead woman walking. This guy was obviously smart and yes, this was a man. A villain but not a monster out of some storybook that couldn't be touched or fought. He wasn't a yokai and the smoke was just that, smoke from the fire.

Smoke that was coming in and from the looks of things there was no place for it to go. If she did manage to find someplace to hide and wait for help, there was little chance that she be able to survive the smoke inhalation. And leaving out the fact she could reveal herself by coughing, there still was the villain to worry about. The noise of the machinery in the garage clattering and wearing away made it impossible for her to tell the banging of metal on metal from a heavy stomp on a step. It was quite possible she could end up running right into him by accident. Worse, it was a gamble on which way to go since she didn't know which way he went to start his climb up.

That's even if he did start his way up and was not still somehow powering through the smoke and waiting for her at the only exit. An exit that was on fire.

Faced with no real choice that didn't carry a ton of risk, she began to steadily make her way towards the descending staircase.

Every step she took was a challenge of nerve.

The garage itself vibrated and shook, making repetitive whirrs and clicks and clangs like the pulse a great living thing. When she paid attention to it, she began to realize that something was off about even that. She continued her walk down, turning her ear towards the center and listening closely as she pulled up the collar of her shirt and pressed it over her nose when she passed into the smoke.

_Whirr. Rattle. Clang. Cl–click. Whirr. Rattle. Clang. Cl–click. Whirr. Rattle. Clan – Fizz-crack!_

There! She paid no attention to the banging that followed the sound, only to where it came from. Below her and to the left. Not directly, it seemed like it came from an angle which probably meant that he was making his way up on the other side. She picked up the pace, no need to sit and start speculating where exactly he was so long as he wasn't in her way.

Inko didn't know how many flights she had to climb down but –

Crack! Her stomach flopped as a flash of blue shot out of the smoke, hit the ceiling of the stairwell and bounced off the wall right in front of her. The concussion when it popped blew a small ozone smelling clearing in the smoke. That been too close. She hurried even faster. The stairs felt like they went on forever. Flight after flight went by without any sense that she was making progress while the smoke was getting thicker and thicker the further down she went. Breathing became More and more of a chore the longer she was in the smoke. Her eyes burned with tears and it was taking effort not to cough.

Waving away the smoke was a useless effort she quickly discovered. There was so much of it and it was so thick, she could barely keep her footing down the steps without using both the railing and constantly looking down at her feet. Of course, the need for caution slowed her down. Inwardly, the need to get out of here as fast as possible warred with the common sense part in the back of her mind which pointed out that if she fell down the stairs and broke something or, God forbid, knocked herself out not only would she most likely not get out but she would do the hard part of the murderer's job for him.

Inko refused to make herself easy prey. She frowned, a frustration at that single word stirring almost foaming away in her chest, spreading until every muscle held taught against the rage bottled up inside. Her raspy breath shook as she bit back the scream threatening to belt out of her. Fury gnawed at the fresh threads of control that her grandmother's warnings had instilled. She was not a victim! This man wronged her worse than he could ever contemplate. He didn't just hurt her – no, he stole the precious peace she'd worked so hard for. Made her question everything about what she once knew was set in stone.

_Her child's safety_. She frowned against the throb in her temples as her tail violently lashed against a railing, buckling the section it struck.

_Her peace of mind and satisfaction_. Fidgeting hands balled into fists.

_Her family_. Her stride became less hesitant, no longer using careful steps.

_Her marriage_. Jaw clenched, her teeth ground together as a snarl slipped from her lips.

_And now he was coming for her life? Her son's?_ Inko knew that if her little boy had still been here, this creature would've come after him as well.

Hate, pure and white-hot, lanced electrical charges through her brain followed by a cold revulsion sweeping away the final sparks of fear in her heart like the dying glow from ash caught in the wind. One by one, the environment around her became less and less of a concern. The sting in her eyes faded. The urge to cough at sour smelling smoke around her left completely, even though she had stopped using her shirt as a mask. The racket of the garage dissolve into white noise like the volume on a radio being turned down and tuned out. By the time she reached the bottom floor, a concentrated blend of emotion had turned the woman known as Inko Midoriya into a human shaped contact explosive ready to go off at any moment.

Totally numbed everything but a thirst to fight back, she wasn't surprised in the slightest when she made for the entrance or, at least, where she guessed the direction it was in and found the villain standing across from her. She didn't flinch nor step back as he turned to her with all the threat and intent of someone swinging a gun in her direction. He smiled wide, yellow teeth a ghastly added horribleness to his dirty rabid appearance, and raised his knife. "Gotcha."

X

The last wisps of smoke were finally starting to dissipate, having long changed from their previous acidic black to a misty white. Long lines of water were jetting out of the firefighting trucks and their hoses as Heroes, police, and firefighters trudged about the scene of wreckage. As was typical of the era, civilians were gathered around the perimeter of the cordoned of danger zone, hoping to either catch a glimpse of one of their favorite Pro-Heroes or to witness the latest of a long-line of Villain attacks or were just interested in getting the latest gossip. Reporters and journalists were bouncing about the site, trailing Pro-Heroes mostly, as they sought to get the big scoop and learn the untarnished truth of what had happened, rather than relying on rumors and hearsay.

For his part, Aizawa couldn't help but cast a tired glare in the direction of the vultures and bloodsuckers out there. But then he turned his gaze back towards the scene of the incident. And wasn't that putting it lightly. Inko Midoriya and her son were seated on a pair of emergency gurneys that were being gently but swiftly lifted into the back of an ambulance. Though the boy had minor injuries at best, Inko had been diagnosed with a bad case of smoke inhalation, numerous bruises and small cuts, and badly bruised and bloodied knuckles.

"I still can't believe it," a young voice uttered softly from nearby. Aizawa glanced in his direction, seeing that it was Mirai Sasaki, a young Pro-Hero who was still somewhat new to the Hero ranks and was the recently appointed Sidekick of All Might himself. The young man was gazing fiercely about the carnage with a critical eye for a long moment, before shooting another glance towards Inko Midoriya. "I predicted a great many things happening, a great deal of deaths and fear, at least five more Pro-Hero deaths, because of Alan and his rampage in the coming weeks. But I did not see this…_this_ coming. _**At all!**_"

"It certainly was surprising," Aizawa agreed, having been dreading a similar situation as what Sir Nighteye had just described. "But we do catch a break like this every so often."

"It's _humiliating_, is what it is!" an angered and annoyed voice rumbled from the far side of the gathering. Aizawa didn't even need to turn his head to see Endeavor's disgusted frown as his furious flames washed their hot hatred over all who were unfortunate to be near him. "Such a dangerous _killer_ with a nigh-_unstoppable_ Quirk that is tailormade for _escaping_, brought down by an _**untrained housewife!**_ It's pathetic and embarrassing! We're never going to live this down!"

"Oh, stop being such a grumpy guss, Endeavor," All Might said, grinning widely as always while the Flame Hero shot him a smoldering look of repressed fury. "This was a potentially bad situation that got resolved quickly! Admittedly not by us or to our standards. But we can now focus on other, more important affairs!"

As Endeavor and All Might got into another one of their heated debates, Aizawa turned his attention back to the scene before him. In his mind's eye, he re-watched the recorded footage of the clash between the murderous Villain and the seemingly-demure and defenseless Inko. Somehow, whether through fear-induced adrenaline, repressed fury of a scared mother, or some other factor he was unaware of, when she had been backed into a corner with only one way out, Inko had managed to close the distance between her and her assailant at speeds that Aizawa would've otherwise not thought she was capable of. And it hadn't been just her speed that had been impressive, but her ability to dodge the electrical surges and attacks that Alan had launched at her.

Aizawa had paid attention to Alan's expression as the woman had closed distance with him, seeing his cocky face changing to one of uncertainty he kept on missing his mark. Aizawa had been quickly able to realize that he was yet another example of the common trope of Villains nowadays. Those who relied almost exclusively on the power of their Quirks to win them the day. So, when Inko had got close, which was really the smartest thing she could've done in that situation, he had been caught flatfooted and confused. But what was more intriguing was that while the man might not have had any formal martial arts training, but he should've still been able to overpower her sheer brute strength.

Men generally were stronger than women, and she was as untrained as a person could get. Her Quirk was so 'passive' that it was next to useless in a fight. She should've been brought down in just a couple of blows. But she hadn't. Instead, she had lashed out and attacked Alan with such a ferocity that it honestly surprised Aizawa (and many of the other emergency personnel who'd since shown up) that she hadn't outright _killed_ him! She'd fought like a madwoman, like a savage demon had possessed her mind and body. Not relenting or pulling any punches until her attacker was just a bleeding pulp on the ground at her feet, her face, hands, and clothing covered in his blood.

"We need to keep an eye on her," Mirai Sasaki said, unknowingly speaking Aizawa's thoughts. "That woman was able to defy my Quirk. There's something…different about her. I wanna know what and why."

"Her _and_ her son," Aizawa stated levelly. "They both apparently possess the same Quirk now."

"Yes…" Mirai said slowly, his eyes narrowing in deep thought. "Yes, they do. How…interesting."

XXX

"World works in mysterious ways, don't it, Hijack?" Kazuki said with a cocky smirk as he glanced back to the semi-conscious Villain that was tightly bound and chained to the gurney he was on. Kazuki was the only guard in the ambulance and if he was honest, he didn't even think he needed to be here. This bastard had been thoroughly pounded into human shaped goo before they'd scraped him up and into a Tartarus bound ambulance. But he understood well why no one was taking any chances, not with all the shit this guy had pulled. A police escort of six cars, three head and three behind, all had their sirens on and were clearing a path of the freeway. Between the near-week long nightmare to be over and the long drive ahead, Kazuki couldn't help but gloat over this murderous creep. A little stress relief, if anything. "Bound for a lovely private suite in Tartarus until we can ship your sick ass back home to face American justice. Oh, the irony must be killing you." He didn't get any response from the back.

"Just leave it alone, man." Higara's voice drifted in from the driver's seat. "Bad enough I'm the one who's gotta be this guy's private chauffeur, don't wanna be hearing your tone deaf voice for the whole ride."

Kazuki flipped him off but quieted down nonetheless. He was tired anyway, it was late and he'd been practically yanked out of his bed by the phone less than an hour ago. What he wouldn't give for a nap.

Kazuki just shook his head to clear the cobwebs, reaching for the radio for a standard check in before glancing into the door mirror he was sitting next to and froze.

What he saw in the reflection was a black-suited man with a face-concealing helmet riding up towards the convoy on a motorcycle at alarming speed. Just as the man was nearing the back of the convoy, five more riders suddenly split apart from behind the front cyclist in a V-formation that created a moving roadblock behind them. '_Well, __**that's**__ not suspicious!_' "Check those bikes!" he called out, putting the radio to his lips. "Coming up on our right and our left!"

But even as he was warning the other cars, the six cyclists were drove in and past the police convoy. It was only because he was paying attention to the one of riders' that their movements, caught in the glare of the streetlights, that Kazuki saw the rider reaching down and tossing strange cylinders to the backs of the police vehicles they passed. Following the three cyclists that passed the armored ambulance, Kazuki's blood went cold as the ends of the cylinders all flashed from a bright green, to yellow, to an ominous red. "Oh my god…"

Six near simultaneous explosions suddenly went off around the ambulance, rocking the massive vehicle like a toy. The bursts of fire were so powerful they blew the burning police cars clear off the road, bouncing off into a median or over a guardrail. Kazuki didn't know if it was him or Higara that shouted first as the ambulance was pummeled on all sides by fire, noise, and debris pinging off the armor. Higara kept control though and floored it as Kazuki followed procedure and unbuckled himself, going for the emergency shotgun that armored ambulance supposedly had. Gripping it, he started shouting. "_Go! Floor it! Gogogogo!_"

"Oh, that can't be good…" was his answer.

Looking up from where he was frantically trying to load the shotgun shells into the rifle -why didn't these damn things come pre-loaded?- Kazuki saw what had Higara so spooked. The motorcyclists had swerved to the sides of the road, allowing the ambulance to rush on ahead without further harassment. But, in their place, standing up ahead in the middle of the highway was a man. Kazuki couldn't see his face because it was hidden in shadow, but he could clearly see that he was a powerfully built man, dressed in what was obviously an expensive high-society suit and tie. Normally, such a sight wouldn't have scared Kazuki, but between the situation and the fact they weren't being chased, there was just something about this man, an aura about him, that just _screamed_ trouble.

They were still barreling towards him at high speeds but the man was clearly unafraid, standing there like he was waiting on an office client and NOT directly in the path of an over two ton speeding vehicle. Slowly, with obvious deliberation and intent, the man lifted an arm and held up his hand in a stopping gesture that reminded the guard of a traffic director. A nearly visible pulse of something emitted from the man's palm and suddenly they were airborne. The speeding vehicle instantly was lifted off the ground, its tires spinning uselessly as its engine roared. Before Kazuki could fully process what in the hell was going on the man twisted his wrist slightly and dropped his hand and the ambulance crashed to the ground in a roll, jostling and throwing about all inside mercilessly until it rested on its side.

Stars and other bright lights erupted in Kazuki's mind as pain filled every part of him, having gotten the worst since he was unbuckled. He lost all perception of time and self as his mind waddled and rocked. He was only vaguely aware of the sensations of lying somewhere uncomfortable. Then, of the sensation of being pulled somewhere. After what felt like an eternity, Kazuki was able to partially force an eye open and stared with numb incomprehension at the scene of a massive monster of a man with hands of green fire reaching into the chest of a thrashing and squealing man bound in chains. He blinked languidly and found himself staring up into the barrel of the shotgun he'd been trying to load.

**Click. BO-**

The ambulance and the escort would be found later and in spite of a massive investigation, the case went cold with no sign of the attackers or 'Hijack'.

XXX

'_I'm…I'm…scared_,' were thoughts that had been circling Inko's mind ever since she'd found herself cornered by the Villain who'd taken so much from her.

She was standing in the darkened room of her sweet, little Izuku's bedroom, staring down at his sleeping form. Her sweet, sweet son still had that same small smile present on his face. The very same one that he'd worn ever since he'd discovered the new brown, furry appendage he'd grown out. If she had the Quirk to do so, Inko was fairly confident that her son was once again dreaming those blissful dreams of him becoming a Pro-Hero akin to or greater than his idol. As much as she truly loved and cherished her son, Inko found herself quite envious of him right now. Being young enough to be able to adapt to sudden changes in his life so much more easily than her, not fully comprehending the amount of danger they'd just been in, and being able to fall asleep so quickly and easily, as though he didn't have a care in the world.

'_I'm scared…_' echoed in her thoughts as she reached down pulled up his bedsheets just slightly, enough to cover his little shoulders snugly. Then she carefully bent down and planted soft kiss on his pudgy cheek. Izuku mewed slightly in his sleep, somehow having felt the kiss and squirming slightly in discomfort. It was a small action, but it still brought a small smile to her face. "Goodnight, sweetie. I'll see you in the morning."

Silently making her way out of his room, she gently closed the door behind her. Prior to this whole ordeal, with that last chore done, Inko would've normally headed to her own bed and fallen asleep in short order herself. But now, after everything that's happened and everything she's experienced, Inko knew that sleep just wouldn't come to her tonight. So, instead, she headed for the front door of her apartment and quietly headed outside. The night sky was clear of any clouds this night, but only the brightest stars were visible. The light pollution from the massive city around her made casual stargazing an impossibility, one of the many things she'd missed from her childhood days. But she wouldn't have seen them even if they had been visible. Her mind was somewhere else entirely. '_I'm…scared…_'

Intellectually speaking, Inko knew what was wrong with her. She knew why she was so scared. Pro-Heroes were trained and licensed individuals who's primary jobs were to help stop crime, fight Villains, aid in natural disasters and relief efforts, and protect civilians whenever possible. And just like with the police force or military, they could've be everywhere. There were only so many of them after all. And for every Pro-Hero (or Vigilante for the matter) in the world, there were easily three to five Villains. The chances of the Pro-Heroes being around and able to have saved her and Izuku that first time were very small indeed. She could understand, and maybe even accept that just fine. But her motherly instincts and personal fears told her that while the first time was forgivable, the _second time_ that same Villain attacked _was not!_

Both times she'd been faced against a murderous psychopath, she'd been forced to fend for herself, to fight out of desperation to protect herself and her son, despite the terror that had been coursing through her veins. '_I'm scared_,' was putting it extremely lightly. But it wasn't just physical pain, or fear of being made to watch and unable to save her son, or even fear for her life that was making Inko so scared right now that she simply couldn't find sleep. No, what was scaring her more than anything she'd ever experienced before in her life was what she had felt in herself during that second encounter.

Slowly, hesitantly, almost fearfully, Inko raised her bandaged hands to stare at her bruised knuckles. She could still remember the sensations she'd felt. The feeling of her fists making contact with her hated tormenter. The taste of blood in her mouth. The sound of her heart pounding wildly and deafeningly in her ears. The electrical jolts of adrenaline that raced through her blood as she drew nearer to her target. The sight of his widening eyes changing from bloodthirsty anticipation to scared confusion. But, more than that, far more than any of all of that, Inko found herself truly terrified of the incredible sense of joy and satisfaction she'd felt when she finally stepped back and stared down at the bloody mess she'd made of the man on the ground. The joy of being able to finally cut loose and indulge in something so primal, something she's never done before in her life! The satisfaction of being the one standing triumphant in the end.

In those short moments, Inko had never, _**ever**_, felt more alive than she ever has before in her life!

And the realization of that was the trigger and source of her current fear.

Yet, at the same time, she wasn't scared of where this path would take her. The Inko Midoriya of the past would've never understood what she was feeling now. Would've questioned her sanity if she'd even contemplated the ideas that were currently bouncing about her cranium. But this Inko Midoriya had already realized that her old life was well and truly over at this point. She'd never be the same humble and doting housewife and mother she had been a week ago. She'd be able to just step back and wait for a Pro-Hero to conveniently arrive to save the day anymore. She'd lost a great deal of trust in the entire Hero system because of these experiences she'd just been forced to endure.

So, given what her own grandmother had told her, as well as the secrets that she was starting to learn in the family journal, Inko could already see the new divergent path that her life was about to take her down. And as much as it unsettled her to imagine the changes that she and Izuku were about to undergo, she wasn't afraid of them either. She trusted herself enough to not let herself become lost to the baser instincts of her heritage, as so many of her ancestors before her had. And she trusted herself to teach Izuku the right principles and to gain mastery of his primal urges as well.

'_I'm scared…but I've also never been so __**excited**__ before in my life!_' Finally lifting her gaze, Inko rested her hands upon the railing in front of her as she stared up at crescent moon that was slowly creeping up over the horizon. "Things will never be the same again. But…I won't let Izuku fall for the same trap as our forebearers. I won't!" Her eyes gained a slightly menacing tint as she stared at the moon. "Not even you will stop me. I swear it!"

It might've been her imagination, but the moon seemed to dim ever-so-slightly under her hard glare. Then, recollecting herself, Inko straightened herself up and stretched slightly as a yawn tore its way out of her. Okay, maybe she might be able to get to sleep now. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. Her and Izuku both.

As she made her back inside, Inko never noticed the slight indentations in the railing she'd caused when she'd made her solemn vow.

XXX

_This is where it all started, I think. My mom's obsession with training. Not just to prepare me but also herself. It became an obsession, bordering on an addiction worse than any drug. If you'd asked me then if Inko Midoriya would ever become a Hero, I'd have probably would've shook my head and laughed at you for being silly. I only have the advantage of the kind of hindsight that comes from maturity and very candid conversations between my mother and I. I know she wanted to protect me. By all rights, the best thing she could've done, if she'd wanted to, would've been to forbid me from even glancing in the direction of any hero program as was her right as my guardian._

_But she didn't._

_She knew how much it would hurt me if she barred me from Hero Work, how much in meant to me after it was 'proven' that I wasn't Quirkless. Maybe that was her biggest weakness. She cared so much, loved me so much, wanting to shield me from a dangerous world, yet refused to use that want as an excuse to stop me. Had she been a harder woman, cared less about what I, her son, wanted or the strain that putting her foot down would put our relationship, things would certainly be very different now. But hypotheticals and what-ifs are meaningless at this point. Her choice was to let me make my own choice and thus, work around and adjust her wishes accordingly. It still staggers me now when I think about all it cost her, not just in body but in mind. When I got a family of my own, her perspective was blown wide open for me. Just thinking about the sudden absence of a mental peace that comes with knowing your child is going to have a safe normal life and how my mom who loved me more that life itself, sacrificed that for me, brings tears to my eyes. When I asked why she didn't stop me then, her answer was she'd never considered trying._

_Inko Midoriya gave me, Japan, and eventually the world, her all and everything, in spite of her own personal wants. And she did it with a smile._

_-Izuku Midoriya, My Mother The Warrior._

Arc 0 END


	5. Interlude: The Years Pass

Interlude: The Years Pass

Sim's School of Wing Chun looked rather shabby in her opinion, no matter what the internet reviews said. The building was rather simple and antiquated in design. Clearly it was meant to look like a Chinese temple with stylized dragons and brilliant red paint, but it hadn't been maintained well. The paint was faded to a light dusty pink. The dragons, made out of untreated wood, had long since cracked the paint protecting it and the repeated swelling and shrinking left deep slits. One of the four that sat at the entrance was even missing it's head entirely. If it hadn't been for the 'OPEN' sign in the large window and the movement she could make out through the curtains, she'd have thought this place was closed down.

"Mom? What are we doing here?"

Inko looked down to her son and smiled. "We're here to learn how to fight. Remember? Your training to be a hero?" While it had been almost a week, there had been no word back from the police about that 'Hijack' villain who had gone missing and she hadn't bothered asking. To her, that lack of information was as good of an excuse as any to start self-defense classes and why she had been purchasing basic training equipment after researching on the internet. Yeah, that was it.

"Oh, that's right." Iuzku said, looking far less confused and much more excited now.

Her eyes drifted to his hand in hers. The zig-zagging scar that started at his fingers and went all the way up his arm hadn't faded. Without thinking, she rubbed away at her tingling thigh and took a deep breath. Yeah, there wasn't another reason why she was here.

"Hey, mom."

She jumped a little, realizing she was staring. "Yes?"

"Your tail?"

She looked behind them and felt a flush of embarrassment when she saw her tail entwining around her son's protectively. The thing had a mind of its own sometimes. Working her tail from the bind, and then wrapping it snugly around her waist just to be sure, she quickly led her son to the building's entrance.

It was roughly half an hour later when their lesson started. Apparently, she'd arrived early in the teacher was just finishing up a class and so they had to wait around for the next one to start. It didn't take long, Inko explained why her son and her were here and made the first payment for future lessons. Soon though, the next group of students arrive.

Inko and Izuku were seperated from the more experienced, standing off to the side of the main area of the dojo where the older disciples were busy drilling in their katas or sparring with one another. Now dressed in the classic white training gis, the mother and son pair however were being instructed by the sensei. He stood before them, slightly bent in a fighting stance, explaining the basic concepts of it to them.

"The first thing you need to learn about Wing Chun is the centerline," Samuo Sim was saying, holding his stance and waiting for them to assume the stance themselves. Once they did, he slid out of his and moved forward to gently correct their limb placements and posture. "You don't want to weave and wave too much to the sides. That causes you to lose your balance and open yourself to attacks. You want to make short, small movements whenever you do move to the side. Keep yourself centered forward at all times. Forget anything you've seen in movies, there are no special acrobatics"

He grasped Izuku's hand and gently opened it out of the fist he'd been holding. "This style is all about attacking to the center. Picture your arms like swords, but each part of your arm has a part. This part is offense—" he gestured to Izuku's hand and palm. "This part is defense—" he tapped the forearm. "And this part is the gate—" he grasped Izuku's upper arm and moved it slightly. "Where the force and mobility is generated. And, remember, always keep your elbow in the center with your rear leg to give you the power," Sim continued, glancing over at Inko to ensure that she was also paying as rapt attention as her son, nodding in satisfaction when he saw she was.

Stepping away from them, he resumed his stance again. "Remember, most people only have three limbs available for fighting: two arms and one leg. The second leg is always going to be used for standing. So, remember, you must have one arm for defending the high, one for the middle, and the leg for the low." He waved each limb briefly as he spoke them, demonstrating the centerline down the middle of his body."

Returning to his stance, he held up his open hands, one in front of the other. "This is your first line of defense." He tapped his front hand lightly before waving the back one slightly. "The second line of defense." Then he dropped the front hand. "The front one is taken out, the second one's still there. Then, it's just a matter of switching lines." He demonstrated this by bringing his downed hand back up, now in the second defense position as he slid the other into the front. "So, you're always covering here, in the center."

Despite himself, Sim couldn't help the small smile from spreading across his face as he saw the bright-eyed wonder and understanding light up the young boy's face, as well as the dawning realization in the mother's expression. This was his favorite part of teaching, when he sees his disciples grasping and understanding the concepts and principles of his style. But he didn't let that distract him from his instruction as he continued, "Now, remember how I said our arms are like swords? Most other fighting schools teach you to defend and attack." He showed this by using the front arm to seemingly ward off an oncoming strike before launching his other arm forward to counterattack. "As though we were carrying a sword and shield. But Wing Chun would be like a two-sword style, always thrusting for center mass." He showed this by sending a steam of punches forward. "Understand?"

Inko nodded grimly while Izuku grinned excitedly, already mirroring Sim's movements. And so went the first of many training sessions thereafter.

XXX

__Three months later…__

Master Samuo Sim was an elderly man. Aged though with a full head of gray hair, he had a slight lean forward when he walked, the result of a back injury that ended his short hero career. Instead of being bitter like most would have in his place he'd dedicated many years of his life to teaching others how to defend themselves. Hero or not, Quirk or not, there were going to be times that one would have to defend themselves.

But… On this occasion there was a small problem that needed addressing. So it was with great reluctance that he slowly rose from behind his desk, back creaking in response, left his office, and walked over to where two particular students were practicing away from the few other students.

"Miss Midoriya? We need to talk." He began as he approached her, as she worked through the forms on the wooden dummy. The fourth wooden dummy he'd had to buy to replace the ones she alone broke. Her enthusiastic son was already on his fifth. Actually, that was why he was nervous. He couldn't have asked for better students. Both tore into their lessons eagerly with few questions, and with no training in any other style, they had no bad habits that needed to be corrected. Even better, unlike many youngsters who'd come in with delusions of becoming a Kung Fu hero overnight as if any martial art was something you could master in a montage like in an old action movie, they both had been patient. Coming in not asking to learn 'cool moves' but about what techniques would be useful in certain situations that sometimes even he hadn't considered since he'd been a young hero. Most of which came from Izuku.

The boy in question was off to the side working his way through yet another large set of pushups.

The clacking of wood stopped as Inko, ever polite, stood straight, brought her hands together, palm over fist and bowed. "Master Sim? What can I help you with?"

With a nod and returning the gesture, he began speaking. He was reluctant to say what was needed but there was no point beating around the bush. "I believe you and your son should move on."

Her reaction was quick but not unexpected. Her face turned worried. "Sir, is this about the incident? I promise you that Izuku would've never—"

"No," he cut her off by shaking his head and putting a calming hand on her shoulder. "It isn't about that nor the equipment."

The incident she'd brought up was the main reason why the two Midoriya's were training alone, why everyone in his dojo were uncomfortable with them. When they first arrived, he and everyone else had thought them excitable and happy to learn. But what he originally saw as eagerness slowly revealed itself to be an…intensity over the short time he'd known the monkey-tailed mother and son. When they sparred with their fellow students or worked their way through forms, not only did they do it with smiles on their faces, but by their own words, they practiced…_all the time_. Their dedication had become unsettling even before the incident in question.

It had happened two weeks ago. Sim had decided that day to teach his class the Fa Jin, also known as the one-inch punch, popularized by a certain film star. Essentially, after he'd showed them the proper way to hold their fist and strike, he had split the class into pairs. One student would hold up a small punching bag no bigger than a pillow up to their chest and let the other student make three attempts at the punch before switching. He'd planned to put mother and son together to practice on each other since by that point, it was clear to almost everyone that the two had a hard time holding back their Quirks and they were the only ones who could take it if something went wrong.

He used the word 'almost' because of one man, Knucklehead, a nickname whispered behind his back. His actual name was Kenji somethingorother and he was a piece of work. A braggart and arrogant, he was always saying he was going to be a hero soon with his gravity Quirk, that he'd be able to beat anyone in class. Those were the least of his blowhard tirades that flew from his lips at the drop of a hat.

He'd only been taking lessons for a few days before Sim started regretting ever letting a man like him into his dojo. If Izuku and Inko were the best students he'd ever taught, then Knucklehead was the worst. He acted like a child… No, that was an insult to Izuku. The man had come in with the expectation of learning a few moves and becoming a master within a few days. When his expectations were proved wrong, he developed quite the attitude.

In some way, Sim understood why he was getting frustrated for the same reason most individuals with a battle ready Quirk did in his class on the rare times they applied. The Quirk did the all the work.

Kenji's Quirk allowed him to throw punches and kicks that, no matter how fast or slow, could knock someone off their feet. He probably never needed to dodge in a fight or know how to correctly brace himself to kick.

If Sim was honest, he still had no idea why the man even wanted lessons since he clearly wasn't ready to take his time and learn., but he tolerated the bad attitude for a variety of reasons. One of which was the money he was getting paid to teach. It helped keep the lights on after all.

But it was Knucklehead's dislike for anything taking away attention from him that had really irked Sim about the man, and both Midoriyas did that regularly. Their dedication and practice always left Sim with some kind of praise on his lips reserved for them. And, for some reason, the man had thought that because _he_ wasn't getting that praise, it meant that the two were getting shown the 'cool moves.'

Even suspecting that, Sim had been shocked when Knucklehead had said he'd take one of the Midoriya's as a partner. At that point, his other students had all seen both Izuku and Inko break the training equipment, usually by accident. But Knucklehead, being a late comer, had not. Before he could try to convince the man to reconsider, Izuku had jumped up, hand up in the air as if in class and burning to answer a question. "Oh. OH! ME! I'll do it!"

Knucklehead had looked at the boy and snorted. "Yeah? You know what, kid? I'll let you go first. In fact, you knock me down, I'll quit this whole thing."

The boy had shrugged, clearly not caring one way or the other. Rather than disperse into pairs to start the exercise, all the disciples remained in their positions. All focus was on the boy and the man several times his size. Knucklehead snatched up the bag and put it at stomach level so Izuku could hit it. "Give it yer best shot, runt."

It was as the green haired boy got to his feet that he noticed Knucklehead's body sink slightly into the mat on the floor in a very unnatural way. Again, Sim was about to object to the sneaky Quirk usage but the boy had sharp eyes and beat him to the punch.

"Hey," he pointed an accusing finger, tail twitching in agitation. "You're using your Quirk! That's not fair."

Again, another snort was followed by a derisive sneer. "So what, kid? You use yours. Let's see that power I've been hearin' about."

That had made the boy nervous. He looked at his mother then to Sim, as if braced to be chastised for the very idea. "Can I?"

Inko nodded from where she was seated, apparently fine with the situation. For Sim himself…he was quite unsure, but after a moment's thought hesitantly nodded. The boy's face brightened like a Christmas tree.

"Be careful," Inko had warned belatedly, as if it were an afterthought.

"Heh, suuure," Kenji drawled out in a conceited voice as he glanced over at her. "I'll be careful when it's my tu—" He never got to finish.

Sim would never forget what happened next. The boy practically skipped over to the man, reached out with index and middle fingers straight, touched the tips to the bag to measure the distance like he'd been shown, closed his fist and—_PUF-_**BOOM!** The punching bag exploded from the force like a firecracker, sending it's material into the air like a fluffy grenade. Izuku's small balled fist had gone through the thing, coming out the other end and digging slight into the man's stomach. At first, it had looked like it did nothing. Then with a groan, Knucklehead folded like a deck of cards, falling backward into the dojo's wall and, because of his Quirk increasing his weight, crashing through it.

It was that day that Sim had been made aware just how much strength the two had been reining in.

"No," Sim stated reassuringly to Ms. Midoriya. "It is about you and your son. I believe you to should leave my class to learn another martial art." At Inko's confused look, he expanded. "You two have a talent for absorbing the information I've been teaching. And considering you told me you wanted your _boy _to have the training to be a hero, it would be a great disservice to you both to constrain you to a single fighting style."

He put a bit extra weight on 'boy' for a specific reason. It was to emphasize that her son was still a child, and that this process shouldn't be rushed. During the few moments he'd gotten to talk with Izuku, he'd found the kid had a passion for heroes and everything to do with them. Bring up All Might around him and you might as well get settled in for a long seminar…or presentation was the better word. Yet he'd also bring up his training at home and it stunned him. If Sim hadn't seen the strength of the two personally, he'd consider Inko insane for what she put herself and her son through on a daily basis. The hundreds of pushups, of situps, and weight training alone made his back twinge in pain just considering it!

"Wing Chun is a good foundation but there are weaknesses to it." It wasn't an easy thing for him to admit but his martial art had flaws, more than he wanted to say. From his own personal experience, it was indeed one of those weaknesses that had left him open to taking the injury that ended his own hero career early.

"B-B-But should we really stop now?" The woman scratched at something on her thigh in agitation, a habit of hers he'd seen in the rare moments she got worked up. "Surely, you have more we can learn?"

Again, Sim shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Even in this short time I've taught you, I can see my lessons can only take you so far. My suggestion for you now is that both of you learn as many styles as you can. Become jacks-of-all-trades as it were. Become proficient enough in them and your son will more often than not be ready for any situation you could face." He smiled, to keep the mood a little less serious. "Take it from an ex-hero, it's better to be over-prepared than under-equipped. And don't think I'm just sending you off with little more than a wave and ta-ta, I do have some recommendations for good teachers."

And that was how Master Sim, once Slim Striker: the Flashing Fist Hero, had a hand in setting up two of the strongest people he'd ever met.

XXX

__One year later…__

"Woooww! That's so cool, Kaachan!" Izuku gushed as he watched his friend make explosions from his hands. Sure, that wasn't anything new but the size of the explosions were. The last time he'd seen Katsuki do this, back around the time that he and his mommy had started really getting serious in their playfighting, the largest Katsuki could make was about the size of a baseball. But the blast that Izuku had just seen was easily bigger than a beachball! "You must've been training really hard, huh?!"

"Pfft, as if I needed to!" Katsuki said, grinning conceitedly at the mere thought of it, even as he ate up the awe and praise that Izuku and the other three kids were dishing out. "The best Heroes are so good that they don't have to practice because they're just that good!"

Despite himself, Izuku felt himself deflate a little bit. Kaachan's logic made sense to the young boy. After all, with so many Quirks out there, some were just naturally better than others. And those rare few really probably didn't need to train too intensely in order to use them. By that logic, his and mommy's Quirks were very, very bad Quirks because they had to train constantly in order to improve them and grow stronger. Not to say that Izuku didn't like training, he absolutely loved it! But still…

"What about you, Deku?" Katsuki asked, snapping Izuku from his musings. There was a superior grin on his face even as he said that, already fully believing that nothing Izuku showed him would be all that impressive. After all, just how useful could having a simple monkey tail be in battle? "We haven't seen you around much since your Quirk appeared. And you still haven't shown us what it can do."

"Yeah, show us!" one of the other boys piped up.

"Come on, Deku!" agreed a second.

Izuku looked indecisive for a moment. He probably could show them something, but he'd promised his mommy he wouldn't. "I…I can't. I promised my mommy I wouldn't."

"What? Why?" the third boy asked, looking confused.

"Because I can't really control it yet," Izuku admitted sheepishly.

That got a laugh out of all four boys, especially Katsuki. "Haahahahahaha! Jeez, Deku, your Quirk really must be useless if you can't even control it!" And, to be fair, their amusement was somewhat understandable. Most children could gain control over their Quirks very quickly and easily once they manifested since they were very much a part of their being. It was like learning to control an extra limb they'd neglected to practice with. Only kids with Quirks that were really complex or had very potent drawbacks had trouble using and controlling them.

Regardless, Izuku's pride had been prickled. He reflexively puffed up his chest, put his hands on his waist, and glared at the group in anger. "It's not like that! I can use it and control it just fine! It's just very…dangerous."

"Oh yeah? Show me!" Katsuki challenged. "Unless you really are a Deku!"

"Yeah! Show us! Show us! Show us!" the other boys chanted, all grinning and laughing at Deku, who's face quickly turned red in anger and his tail started thrashing about in agitation.

"FINE!" Izuku yelled after a moment. Thankfully, the chanting boys quieted down.

Bringing his hands up to his chest, Izuku cupped them slightly as he closed his eyes and looked inwards. Katsuki and the other boys watched with interest as, after a moment of intense concentration, a faint aura of light began to emit from the Deku. This aura first covered his body entirely, but then it started moving, gathering into the space between Izuku's hands. A faint, flickering bead of energy ignited between those cupped hands. It could've taken only a few moments, or even a few minutes, they didn't really know. All they knew for certain was that once that bead of light had formed, it started to grow steadily brighter as it began growing in size. Once it was as large as a baseball and shining as brightly as a lightbulb, did Deku open his eyes again and smile wanly at the boys, all of whom were gawking at the sight.

But after just a moment, Katsuki recovered from his gawk and sneered at Izuku. "So, you can make a little sun between your hands? Big deal! Can it do anything _useful?_ Like _explode?!_" He accentuated his question by making twin blasts go off in his palms, causing the three other boys to flinch back in surprise and fear at Katsuki's unexpected aggression.

"Yup!" Izuku chirped, grinning wider.

Before Katsuki could fully comprehend that statement, the Deku demonstrated by cupping the ball in his hands and thrusting it upwards. The ball flew maybe five meters straight up before it suddenly lit up and exploded like a bomb. The boys all had to shield their eyes from the momentary bright flash of light as the ball blew, thankfully only lasting a moment.

"Whoaaa," one of the boys gawked again, looking back upwards towards where the ball had been. "That's even cooler than Katsuki's Quirk!"

At that remark, something snapped in Katsuki's mind. His anger, already simmering, came surging to the forefront and he immediately acted on it. With a loud cry of rage, he launched himself forward and tackled Izuku to the ground, his fists already moving as little popping bursts of fire squeaked out from around his fingers. But he paid those no mind as he began punching and hitting at the Deku with all of his strength. How could this – this – _this worthless pretender_ dare try to copy his own Quirk?! He was gonna pay for that!

Despite being caught by surprise, Izuku just laughed, his grin growing excited. He lifted his hands up into a defensive posture, using his grappling training to do a very admirable job of warding off Katsuki's hands. Finally, something fun was happening! Katsuki could see and hear Izuku's amusement, which only added fuel to his rage as, instead of thinking it as mocking laughter instead of the very real joy it was. In his enraged state, Katsuki didn't notice as one of the boys ran off in the direction they'd come from only a few minutes earlier.

"Inko…" The woman in question looked up from the book in her lap and over to Mitsuki who was sitting on the park bench next to her. It was the weekly playdate for Izuku and Katsuki, during the summer break period. Both boys had done well in their classes so there was no remedial classes for either of them. She caught glimpses of the two in the far distance as they were running around in the jungle gym with the other boys. Playing tag, if she had to guess.

It wasn't her friend saying her name that got her attention. It was the tone of it that snatched her mind away from the training manual. She closed it softly and set the grip trainer she'd been working with in her free hand down on top of it.

Mitsuki Bakugo sounded nervous. Mitsuki _never_ sounded nervous. In all the years Inko had known her, which was pretty much since almost the day that Izuku and Katsuki met, she'd always been bold, opinionated, and never scared to get in someone's face when they upset her. With wild blonde hair and a face that could pull off some fierce expressions, she was like Inko's opposite in every way. It was a quality that Inko had respected her for and, honestly, envied. Had their roles been reversed a few years ago, Mitsuki would've never allowed that thief to threaten her child. And had she been told that Katsuki had been Quirkless, she wouldn't have just sat there and let the doctor verbally beat down his dream. Inko was _certain_ of that. Even when she visited them in the hospital a year ago, Mitsuki had been _just_ loud enough to be herself but not get thrown out by the staff.

Mitsuki was never nervous. Angry, sometimes. Excitable? Certainly. But _never_ nervous.

So, it was a great surprise when Inko heard that tone from her when she said her name and an even greater one when she saw Mitsuki's eyes tell that the tone wasn't directed at something or someone else but at her. It made her tail twitch. The woman bit her lip, as if unsure she wanted to speak. If she hadn't had Inko's full attention before, she did now.

"Don't you think this is a bit much?" She finally managed.

"Uh, is 'what' a bit much?" Inko asked, curious and feeling somehow nervous despite herself.

"E-Everything," Mitsuki answered, sending a hesitant glance at her friend. Seeing Inko's honest confusion, Mitsuki took a short but deep breath to gather her courage before turning to fully face her friend. "I mean, all the training, the fighting, the martial arts, the new diets, quitting your old job, _everything_. You're so much more aggressive about everything. You always were such a passive person. Once, when this jackass cut you off from making a turn into a parking lot, forcing you to circle around the block six times before you found a new one, you didn't so much as complain. And you didn't even glare at him! Now, if anyone so much as looks at you sideways, you practically get up into their faces and _beg_ them to attack you."

"I don't do that," Inko objected, but with a lot more hesitancy than she'd expected. After all, she knew that Mitsuki did technically have a point. She'd gotten more assertive but surely she wasn't leaping onto strangers. "I don't…do I?"

"And that's not even bringing up how Izuku's changed," Mitsuki continued, snapping Inko out of her internal musing instantly. "Have you seen how he acts nowadays? Two days ago, I saw him getting into an actual fistfight with a group of kids who must've been at least five years older than him! They were fighting in that alleyway right over there." Mitsuki gestured towards the darkened strip between two nearby buildings on the other side of the street from them. "I don't know what caused it or why he was fighting, but I've never known Izuku to be so violent before."

"Izuku-chan told me about that," Inko stated, feeling relieved that he had. It was reassuring to know that her son wasn't keeping secrets from her…not too many just yet, at least. "He found those ruffians beating on one of the students from his class with their Quirks. Apparently, the girl didn't have a very strong or 'flashy' enough Quirk and the kids thought that hitting her would make them 'cool' to their friends. Izuku was basically just defending her from some Villains-in-training."

Mitsuki frowned slightly at what Inko just said. Her expression was clearly torn between disapproval of Izuku involving himself in a street fight, pleased that he'd stand up and defend others who couldn't defend themselves, and worried over how Inko had phrased her response. Mitsuki knew that Inko had lost a great deal of respect for the Hero system and had started becoming obsessed with the idea of Villains lurking about everywhere, just waiting for a second's weakness to spring out and attack her and Izuku again. Given what had happened to them with Hijack, Mitsuki couldn't really fault her. But it still there was reasonable worry and this chronic paranoia that showed in her preparations.

"And what about all of those martial arts schools?" Mitsuki pressed, determined to get just one of her points across. "I've heard that you've visited or attended all of the dojos in the district, even getting banned from most of them. In fact, word has it that the most recent one was because neither you nor Izuku were holding back on your Quirks."

__KRR-KKK!__

The loud snap of breaking plastic pierced the air around them, startling both women into looking down at the source of the noise. It was the grip strengthener that Inko had been absentmindedly flexing throughout their conversation. What was left of it in Inko's hand had been crushed and warped into a nearly unrecognizable lump of plastic and metal. Rather than stammer and apologize, as she normally would've done before all of this started, Inko just sighed in annoyed resignation. This was hardly the first time something like this had happened, and was unlikely to be the last either. She deposited the broken tool into her nearby purse and pulled out the spare she'd brought along out of habit.

As she was doing that, she'd turned back to Mitsuki and replied with, "That incident wasn't entirely our fault. We had warned the sensei and his class that that might've happened. It's sometimes hard to control our strength, especially when we start getting…_excited_."

Mitsuki's expression became slightly guarded as she sent a cautious glance at Inko. "And what about…_him_?" Inko's face immediately darkened, already knowing just who her friend was referring to. "You've also…changed in other ways. Like being so willing to file for divorce. And so soon after the incident."

"_Technically_, I _still_ haven't divorced him," Inko growled in a bitter tone as she glared off to the side. "I know he's still alive because we keep getting a percentage of his paycheck. He just didn't _deign to show up_ to the court on the _scheduled day_ to _sign the papers_."

"And that's what I'm talking about," Mitsuki said. "You never would've tried to do something like this before _it_ happened." Seeing Inko send her a small glare, Mitsuki glanced away for a moment before letting out a low sigh. "But…I do understand why you tried. He should be _ashamed of himself_ for neglecting Izuku _and you_ like he has been!" That quiet admittance brought a small smile to Inko's face in return. "Still, it seems like something has changed that now brings out a **lot** of anger from you whenever he's brought up nowadays."

Inko looked away as Mitsuki looked at her with a searching, almost pleading expression on her lovely face. After several long, strained moments of quiet between them, Inko finally let loose a long, low sigh as she relaxed her grip, having come close to almost crushing the second grip strengthener. Glancing over at Mitsuki, she quietly said, "It's just that… It was recently pointed out to me that…he reminds me of someone I'd _much_ rather _not_ ever think about **ever again**."

Mitsuki blinked slightly in surprise. This was something new. Something she'd never heard about from her friend before. That there was someone she clearly hated with such a deep passion that she never wanted any reminders of again. And that, somehow, some way, her husband's recent inaction had forcefully brought those repressed memories back to the forefront. While Mitsuki had never really been a gossiper before in her life, she did enjoy solving mysteries and working out puzzles. And this seemed like a particularly interesting one at that!

"Midoriya-san! Bakugo-san!" a young voice cried out in panic from up ahead in the playground. Both mothers immediately turned and watched as a small group of kids ran towards them. The desperation and fear in their faces and actions caused both mothers to immediately rise to their feet, already knowing that something bad was happening. They would have to finish their conversation later, it would seem.

XXX

__Six years later…__

"Boop."

The moment Bakugo heard that damn word, he knew there would be trouble. He glanced up from his notebook, turning around to the one who'd said it. He wasn't surprised to see Jinto and his little band of leeches, nor was he surprised to see that it was Tamana they were bothering. The two of them were as different as chalk was from cheese.

Jinto Tamai, with his ugly as hell, thick-lipped, square jawed self, liked to cause trouble with the ones who wouldn't fight back by 'boop'-ing other people's things. Small shit like flipping a page in a notebook when you're writing, moving a chair as you're about to sit down, Bakugo had personally put up with that little 'boop' game for all of -0.02 of a second before he blasted the asshole into next week.

In Tamana Ichinose's case, this round was being played on her keyboard. Her Quirk was programming or something stupid like that, so it wasn't usual to find her here on any given day with her fingers hammering away and glasses locked on the screen. The blonde looked around for a teacher but didn't expect to see any. Knowing Jinto and his buddies, they'd waited and then gathered around her as soon as the librarian had left to do something. As far as he could tell, he was the only other person in the room.

So, Bakugo watched, the clacking of keys filling the silence for a second or two before a hand would reach down, 'boop' a random button, and brought everything to a halt. Tamana would then backspace to clear out the error and continue on like nothing happened. Only for it to repeat itself.

Bakugo could almost hear Jinto testing his luck. But not with Tamana. Instead, it was with the trouble that he knew would show up soon. After all, Deku always popped into these situations like a bad—

"Oh, this looks like a fun game. Can I play?"

As if pulled out the damn ether, Izuku was behind Jinto, his fingers locked around the bigger boy's wrist.

"What the—Let me go! You—aahg!" Jinto's snarl turned into a yelp of pain as Bakugo watched Deku's fingers close together a little.

And here we go.

One of Jinto's cronies kicked at the monkey-tailed boy who simply raised his own foot and brought it down on the other's, pinning his attacker to the floor. Another threw a sucker-punch at the back of his head and, without looking—_that fucking showoff_—Deku twitched his head to the side just enough to let it pass before clamping the bully's wrist between his jaw and shoulder, holding the guy in place like his arm was a phone. The final one tried to tackle him but ended up putting himself in perfect line for the tail to lash out and catch him by the neck like it was some kind of living rope. He still tried to throw some sloppy mix of an uppercut and a jab which was caught in the crook of Deku's knee of his only free leg, leaving him balancing on one foot. A foot that had another boy trying to pull his own free from his weight.

"Wow, this is fun, guys," Deku said as they all bounced in place like some kind of many armed, many legged human octopus. Laughing, Deku then pressed the heel of his free hand into Jinto's nose. "Boop."

"_What is the meaning of this?!_" was the shouted question as the librarian entered, followed by a thumping as everyone toppled over. Some excuses were made and were met with a reprimand not to play around in the library.

Bakugo didn't miss the angry whisper Jinto aimed at Deku when the woman's back was turned. He immediately knew what it was by the way the showoff's face grew a wide smile and the nod that followed. As Jinto and his hanger-ons left, Izuku went right up to Tamana instead of leaving. The girl was looking at him with wide eyes, her smile grateful and a slight redness to her cheeks. The blonde never heard what was said but clearly it was friendly.

Damn, Deku, always playing the—

Bakugo closed his eyes and took a deep breath then went back to writing. "Fucking showoff," he hissed.

It didn't take long for him to figure out what Jinto had said and that idiot agreed to, not that it would've taken Bakugo long to guess. Jinto's cronies made sure everyone knew about the fight that was going to happen after school behind the gym. By the time school was out, it seemed like that's all anyone could talk about. Somehow, the teachers weren't already at the grassy spot between the Gym wall and the fence, detentions at the ready for whoever showed up. And, surprisingly, even those who showed up were few and far between. Bakugo counted maybe 12 watchers, not including himself.

He took a spot on a pile of dirty gym equipment, high enough for him to have a perfect view of Deku, already standing in the open area, freckled face beaming excitedly. Soon, Jinto arrived, parting his way through the onlookers and making right for Deku.

Oh, Bakugo already knew how this would end. Just not if it was gonna be quick or not.

"I'll flatten you!" Jinto wasted no time.

With a snort, his Quirk: Bull Rush came alive and a jet of steam shot from his nose. He raked his foot along the dirt, bracing for a charge. With a final blast of steam from his nose, he stormed at Izuku to literally knock him flat. Only when he reached the spot where Deku should've been, he wasn't there. The boy was instead several feet to the left, watching Jinto as he thundered passed. The other boy, realizing he missed, slid to a stop, turned around and charged again. He wound his arm back this time, ready to put a ton of momentum into a punch. Deku dodged again. Using the boy's arm like a gymnasium bar, he flipped over Jinto and landed on his feet. And again, Jinto came to a sliding stop that dug tracks into the ground, did a 180, and tried again.

That set the tone for most of the rest of the fight.

Jinto would try to use his Quirk to run his opponent down and Deku would weave around it. When after three more times, Jinto finally figured his tactic wasn't working, he tried to fight like anyone would but ended up looking like he was trying to fight a human shaped curtain. Izuku moved around those large fists and heavy feet as if he was made of water. Katsuki knew from experience that the bastard's fighting style was all over the place. One second he'd hop around, doing flips and kicks like he was in a damn Wushu film and the next, he was stock still and barely moving any more than when he had to.

It was the latter style that followed the high kick. When it made contact, there was no follow through. Deku's entire body, on that one leg, became a solid pillar, a wall. His movement may have stopped but the momentum carried his opponent like he was caught off his feet right as a wave crashed down on him. It didn't carry the poor bastard far, barely three feet if that. But the moment he landed, he dropped to his knees gasping, hands clutching at his chest. And as casual as if he had nowhere to be, the green haired idiot slowly lowered his leg, his eyes gleaming like it was Christmas goddamn morning. "Wanna keep going?"

Yeah, the fight was over. These guys just didn't know it yet.

Bakugo hopped down from his spot and began to walk away. He walked and tried not to think of the disappointment that had been growing on Izuku's face as he began to realize the same. Something wasn't quite right with that bastard. And he should know since he'd known the guy since they were small children. He knew all about the incident with that Villain that had awoken a pair of recessive Quirks in the Deku and his mom. Even though that bastard Villain hadn't been seen in Japan since then, the impact he'd made was still quite apparent.

Before the incident, Deku had been a very quiet and soft-spoken kid. He had big dreams of being like or better All Might, but what kid their age hadn't? In fact, his bright-eyed enthusiasm about Heroes was only outweighed by the sickening amount of compassion he had. He always put the needs and safety of others before his own. Something that annoyed, infuriated, and unsettled Bakugo to an immense degree. But one thing he had never been was confrontational. He hated fighting and always did his best to keep other kids around him happy, so violence didn't happen. And should violence ever break out, he'd reluctantly and fearfully put himself between it in order to stop it, regardless of who was fighting and all of that changed when he and his mom grew their tails.

After that had happened, Deku had changed seemingly overnight. He became hyper-focused on training his body and Quirk, strengthening both to their limits and then pushing beyond. He became passively aggressive, eager to jump into the center of fights. He found joy and pleasure in combat now. And his strength truly had grown to a tremendous degree. Bakugo had seen it happen constantly, even felt it numerous times himself in the early days afterwards. At the start, the Deku had been very much weaker and below him, making the fight an easy win for him. But each time he won, the Deku always seemed to come back stronger the next time they fought. And that had _pissed Bakugo off_. How could this Quirk-copying trash become strong enough to threaten his domain as the best in the school so quickly and easily?! So, in order to keep his title as the best potential Hero and fighter in the school, Bakugo had been forced to do something he'd never thought he'd been forced to do before he entered into Yuuei Koko. He'd been forced to start training himself.

Despite himself and how much he hated that copycat for stealing his Quirk, that was perhaps the one thing he was grateful about from those early days. Bakugo had been forced to start training his Quirk and body very hard in order to stay ahead of the Deku. He had learned the importance of stretching his muscles, staying in shape, maintaining a regular and consistent training regimen, and how developing a strong fighting style would enhance his Quirk and abilities. The fights he had with Deku over the years since had become increasingly more violent and destructive as they both improved. And it was from those fights that Bakugo had come to know the type of person his childhood annoyance had grown into. He had seen the sheer joy in his eyes whenever they fought. He saw the way his eyes just lit up like a fucking firework each time he got punched or thrown the ground. The Deku had become single-minded, obsessed with improving his fighting skills and many martial arts techniques. All in a bid for his ultimate dream of fighting All Might.

That, in itself, was the reason Bakugo knew just how unhinged the Deku had become. And that... That's what bothered him the most. When he was first told him about that want years ago, the blonde treated it with the scorn and dismissive-ness such an idea like that deserved. Oh sure, he fully understood wanting to _be_ the next All Might but fighting him? That was stupid, ludicrous, damn idiotic. He treated it as Deku being the Deku they both knew he was.

Even their classmates then and now had laughed at him because even for a joke, it was funny. How could he ever think he could take on All Might?

However, over time Katsuki had stopped scoffing and his dry chuckling had turned even drier as like looming clouds on the horizon, he began to realize Izuku was a serious as the plague.

The green haired boy stop talking about it in public or out loud in general yet Bakugo never forgot the edge to those words, the sharpness of something unidentifiable in his eyes.

If Deku was still joking, the punchline had long grown stale.

While he himself knew that Explosion Murder-cide-No, that didn't work, was truly destined to be the next big thing after All Might, if not even better, Bakugo was under no delusions of who would win in a fight between them should he try to fight his favorite Hero. Nor did he want to go out of his way to fight him either! Bakugo knew himself well enough to know that he could be a very aggressive asshole at times, even more so nowadays with the idiot Deku always pushing his pushing his buttons. But he wasn't stupid or suicidal, and wanting to fight the #1 Hero of the world was exactly that!

'_Maybe the Deku's truly lost it? Maybe he wants to fight All Might so badly because he wants to become a Villain? __The realization froze him in mid step. By now he was more than halfway home and just about to pass under a bridge to get to his part of town_, the simmering frustration he carried in his mind guttering out like a candle in the wind. The following thoughts chilled him to the bone is suddenly all the pieces fell into place.

_That_ bastard didn't just like fighting, no, it wasn't just that. He wanted to fight heroes.

For moment, Bakugo wanted to scream at himself for being so blind, so fucking stupid. It made so much sense now. The hero journals and guides he was always writing, how he would start debates with others about possible strengths and weaknesses of certain hero teams, and even their constant fights.

He was gathering info. Would it be that far of a jump to think that the asshole would use it for his own ends?

Worse, he'd given that Deku so much about himself on a silver goddamn platter.

Looking up from the sidewalk he'd been traveling absentmindedly, Bakugo spotted his home up ahead. Good, he was tried of thinking about his own previous idiocy. It was too late to do anything about it now. In fact, right now he needed to prepare. Maybe he should double his training? He had become a very good judge of just how powerful the weakling had become, and he wasn't about to let that potential Villain overtake him!

* * *

_**A/N: Merry Christmas! Credit to Sundance for helping me get this out when I did. Like 3/4ths of the credit to them! Please leave reviews! I feed off them. Food provides the blood but seeing you all have fun as well nourishes my mind.**_


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